The Real Julia
by weiss-weiss-baby
Summary: DarkAngel Xover. Sark is ordered by the Covenant to kidnap a mysterious X5 who happens to look exactly like Sydney. Who is she and what does the Covenant want with her? And is Sark enjoying their time together much more than he should? SarkJulia
1. Chapter One

**Title:** The Real Julia  
  
**Rating:** PG, for now.  
  
**Pairing:** Sark/New Character  
  
**Summary:** Whilst Sydney and Vaughn are on a mission investigating Project Manticore, an organisation funded by the Covenant, they come across a woman who may be the key to Sydney's missing 2 years - and who also happens to look exactly like Sydney. This woman becomes a mystery that everyone wants to solve, including Sark.  
  
**A/N:** This is an Alias/Dark Angel crossover. You won't need to have watched Dark Angel before to understand the story; I will try my best to explain all the Dark Angel aspect of things. However, for Dark Angel fans reading this story, you'll probably know that Dark Angel was set around the year 2020. For this story I'm just pretending that Dark Angel is set in the same year as Alias, and that the Pulse never happened.  
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Alias, or Dark Angel.

* * *

**Chapter One**  
  
"State your designation, soldier."  
  
A blinding white light shone into Sydney's eyes. She squinted and struggled against her restraints, saying nothing.  
  
"Your designation, soldier!" the voice barked again.  
  
"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Sydney snapped, frustrated.  
  
Someone slapped her sharply across her face. "How did you escape?" her interrogator persisted, clearly unconvinced that she had no clue what they were asking of her.  
  
"Escape from where?" Sydney yelled back. "Where am I?"  
  
"Sydney? Syd! Wake up!"  
  
Sydney jolted awake at the sound of Weiss' voice. The familiar noises of the CIA Operations Centre surrounded her – rustling papers, phones ringing, people panicking. A half typed report on Sydney's last mission to France stared at her, abandoned, from her computer screen.  
  
Weiss peered down at Sydney, amused. "Asleep on the job. I'm shocked, Syd, really," he said with mock disgust. "Although I don't really blame you."  
  
Sydney flashed him a grin, adjusting her awkward position in her chair. "Wow. I can't believe I actually fell asleep."  
  
"Luckily I found you before someone else did, huh? Come on, Dixon just called a meeting." Weiss motioned for Sydney to get up. "Looks like you're going on another mission."  
  
"Great, more jet-lag." Sydney complained good-naturedly, offering an excuse for her unprecedented midday nap. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake the sleepy haze clouding her mind.  
  
"You ok, Syd?" Weiss asked as they made their way to the debriefing room. "You look a little creeped out."  
  
"I'm fine. I had a weird dream, that's all." That didn't surprise her anymore. Lately her dreams had become a regular occurrence, and were more mysterious and vivid than ever before. Whether they were linked to her missing two years, she didn't know. But she knew that she couldn't make sense of any of them.  
  
Weiss placed one hand on her shoulder as a comforting gesture. Sydney sent him a quick smile to reassure him that she was alright before they entered the CIA debriefing room.  
  
The usual group sat around the circular tables – Vaughn, Lauren, Marshall, Dixon, and Jack Bristow. "What's going on?" Sydney asked, promptly taking a seat next to Marshall.  
  
Dixon stood, addressing the whole group. "Sloane has recently uncovered some new intel on the Covenant. This is Liz Renfro," a picture of a spiky blonde haired woman in her mid-thirties appeared on the large screen at the front of the room. "She is the director of Project Manticore, an organisation that the Covenant has been funding for quite some time. Unfortunately we don't know much about Manticore, only that they conduct research on genetics."  
  
"Is this organisation a threat to the CIA?" Vaughn inquired.  
  
"The fact that the Covenant is funding it is reason enough to believe that Manticore is a threat. The CIA's knowledge of the Covenant's endgame is non- existent. We need to stay informed. That's why I'm sending you and Sydney to find out more about Manticore."  
  
Sydney and Vaughn made brief eye contact. No doubt awkwardness would ensue on this trip.  
  
"You leave tonight for Gillette, Wyoming." Dixon stated as he handed the pair a folder each, containing more information on the mission.  
  
"Wyoming?" Sydney glanced up from her folder, surprised. She had been expecting to be shipped off to somewhere on the other side of the world.  
  
"Yes. Manticore's main facility is located right here in America." Dixon confirmed. "Alright, you're all free to go."  
  
"Look on the bright side, Syd. At least you won't get jet-lag." Weiss murmured to her as everyone stood up to leave, subtly referring to the fact that she would be working with Vaughn on this mission.  
  
"I know," she sighed. He always seemed to know when she needed cheering up.

* * *

They were late.  
  
Sark checked his watched and sipped his drink impatiently. The Covenant was never late, especially when it came to meetings that they themselves had arranged. Finally, when he had become so bored sitting in the Italian café by himself that he almost fell asleep, the Covenant agent arrived.  
  
Without a word of apology for his tardiness, he sat at the table and placed a folder in front of him. "The Covenant has an assignment for you."  
  
"I assumed as much," Sark said simply. The Covenant obviously hadn't called him up for a chat. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
"We want you to take this woman into your custody," the agent said, motioning for Sark to open the folder.  
  
Sark frowned slightly as he read through the file containing the woman's details. 'Designation: X5-475, a.k.a "Julia Thorne"', it said. Curiously, he flipped the page over to reveal two mug shots of Sydney Bristow. One was of her face; the other of the back of her neck, which sported a very permanent looking barcode.  
  
"I wasn't aware that Miss Bristow had a tattoo," Sark remarked casually, his mind reeling slightly at the thought of kidnapping the infamous Agent Bristow. She was the only opponent he had faced that proved to be a challenge to outsmart.  
  
"You are mistaken, Mr. Sark."  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"That woman is not Sydney Bristow."  
  
Sark remained silently shocked, staring at the picture. He had assumed that this was the Covenant's file on Agent Bristow, which accounted for the part which stated her name as 'Julia Thorne'. Apparently not. Sark, of all people, knew changing someone's appearance to make them identical to another person was not impossible. Allison Doren was living proof of that. And that was the only reason he could come up with to explain why this woman looked exactly like Sydney Bristow.  
  
"I can imagine that you have lots questions, Mr. Sark," the agent began.  
  
"You have no idea," Sark murmured.  
  
"Yes, well, I'll ask you to refrain from asking those questions for the moment. This woman is vital to the Covenant. It is imperative that this mission is a success," the agent instructed him. "You will go to a facility called Manticore in the US. She will be there. Tell her superiors that the Covenant wants her; they won't question your taking of her and she will come willingly."  
  
Willingly? Sark thought. No, this was definitely not Sydney.  
  
"You will keep her with you until the Covenant contacts you," the agent concluded.  
  
"And what exactly do I do with her in the meantime?" Sark demanded. What did he look like, a baby sitter?  
  
"That is not our concern." The agent gave him an infuriating smirk – quite similar to his, actually, which he didn't like – and walked off.  
  
"This certainly will be interesting," Sark muttered to himself.

* * *

Manticore wasn't a nice place, Sydney decided as soon as she set foot in the place. It wasn't just its outward appearance – the endless stretch of mangled barbed wire fences enclosing a group of ugly grey building and a vast expanse of lonely forest. An air of unfriendliness seemed to hang about the desolate halls that the gaurds were leading her and Vaughn through.  
  
They walked past closed door after closed door, until finally a familiar blonde woman met them at the end of the corridor.  
  
She greeted them, extending her hand, which Sydney and Vaughn shook in turn. "I'm Liz Renfro. I've been expecting you." She paused as she shook Sydney's hand, looking at her curiously with a hint of recognition on her face.  
  
"Something wrong?" Sydney asked, not appreciating the way this woman was blatantly staring at her like a long lost cousin.  
  
Renfro finally let go of her hand. "No.......you just seem very familiar. Have we met?"  
  
"I'm sure we haven't." Sydney flicked her fake black hair over her shoulder. "I would have remembered you." Maybe I should have worn a better disguise, she thought. Though posing as a rich business woman didn't offer many options in terms of disguises. A suit and wig was the best she could do.  
  
"We've been interested in your research for quite some time, Ms Renfro," Vaughn interrupted, cutting straight to the point. Clearly this place made him as uncomfortable as Sydney felt, and he wanted to get out quickly.  
  
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Renfro responded, sneaking one last look at Sydney before letting the incident past. "And Manticore is very grateful for the funds we have received from your employer. The Covenant can be assured that they will benefit greatly from our research."  
  
Sydney didn't let the surprise register on her face, although she was definitely taken aback. This woman thought they were from the Covenant?  
  
Vaughn, realising what an opportunity this would be, said, "The Covenant has given Manticore plenty of time to do what you need to do. We need to see some results."  
  
"The Covenant has also instructed us to bring back copies of all your files – every detail of the procedures that take place here at Manticore," Sydney lied, playing on as well. Maybe their mission would be easier than they had expected.  
  
"Certainly. I assure you, you won't be disappointed."  
  
As soon as Renfro turned her back to the pair, Vaughn raised his eyebrows at Sydney in disbelief.  
  
"I know," she mouthed, nodding. Things had definitely taken a turn for their benefit.  
  
Renfro led them to a small room with a two way mirror. On the other side stood a man and a woman, standing at attention the way a soldier in the army would, their faces eerily blank as they stared straight ahead. They wore grey T-shirts with typical army style camouflage pants, and couldn't have been older than 25.  
  
Sydney and Vaughn silently exchanged curious glances.  
  
"This is X5-494 and X5-452, two of our best," Renfro indicated to the two unmoving people.  
  
"Those are their names?" Sydney asked, trying to hide her surprise.  
  
"They don't have names. Those are their designations." Renfro replied, as if this was perfectly normal.  
  
"So, what are they, exactly?" She felt callous referring to them as objects, but she managed to convince herself that her alias required her to be that way.  
  
"They are the first of our successful experiments. For many years Manticore has been trying to design the perfect soldier – a soldier that is stronger, faster and smarter than any normal human. A soldier that will never fail to complete their mission."  
  
"And how exactly did you go about doing that?" Vaughn said.  
  
"Have you ever noticed how animals have certain abilities that normal humans lack, Mr. Danes?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Cats can see in the dark, fish can breathe under water, cheetahs have amazing stealth. We wanted our soldiers to have these abilities. So we manufactured them with a combination of both human and animal DNA. The X5s have cat DNA inside of them. Manticore's scientists have also used genetic engineering to give them advanced healing, immunity to most diseases, the ability to go without food and water for almost a week. Amongst other things."  
  
"What do they do?" Sydney suspected where this was heading, and she didn't like it. It was extremely clichéd, but she had been expecting – or hoping – a white lab with a bunch of whack-job scientists. But it seemed to her that Manticore's research was much more than a bunch of test tubes.  
  
"They can do whatever you want them to do. Deep cover ops, assassinations, undercover work – you name it. They've had extensive combat and weapons training since they were three years old."  
  
Three years old? It was painfully reminiscent of the children subjected to Project Christmas – including her. Only the X5s weren't merely a group of extremely smart kids plucked out of millions of American children to see if they were suitable to become spies. The X5s were born spies, grew up as spies, and would always be spies – for the Covenant. Sydney now understood why the Covenant was funding Manticore – they wanted to use the X5s to make them invincible.  
  
"Well, I think we've seen enough for the meantime," Vaughn said after a pause. "This was impressive. We'll be sure to tell the Covenant what a good job you've done. Now we have another meeting to get to, we'll leave just as soon as you give us the files we requested."  
  
Renfro folded her arms. "I'm afraid we can't give you those files. They're confidential."  
  
"You do realise that you don't have a choice, the Covenant wants those files." Sydney replied darkly.  
  
"I don't see why the Covenant needs –" Renfro began to protest.  
  
At that moment, Vaughn's phone rang. Sydney took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to execute a swift kick to Renfro's head, knocking her out.  
  
As she helped herself to the contents of Renfro's suit pockets, she heard Vaughn say into the phone, "Thanks Marshall. You were right on time. Feed the loop into the security cameras." Then, to Sydney, "Here, take her fingerprints."  
  
"Looks like we'll have to do it the hard way." So much for an easy mission, Sydney thought as she stood with Renfro's keycards and copies of her fingerprints.  
  
"You just had to be difficult, didn't you?" she said condescendingly to the unconscious director of Manticore.  
  
"Come on, we don't have much time. You take the rooms upstairs and I'll take the ones downstairs. Download as many files as you can from Manticore's computers and we'll meet back here in ten minutes," Vaughn instructed.  
  
Sydney nodded, and they went their separate ways.

* * *

Sark approached the two Manticore guards. "I'm here to see the director of Manticore."  
  
"And who might you be?" one of them replied, eyeing him suspiciously.  
  
"I'm Mr. Sark, from the Covenant. You knew I was coming."  
  
The other stepped forward authoritively, sizing him up. "The Covenant, eh? Well that's funny, because Director Renfro is in a meeting with two Covenant agents right now. And as far as I'm aware, we're only getting one visit from the Covenant today."  
  
"Really." Sark stared back at him calmly. "Then perhaps you should call on the director and we can sort this out."  
  
The guard shot him a glare; he was not impressed that Sark didn't seem at all intimidated. Reluctantly he said through his comm. link – "Ms. Renfro? There's someone here claiming to be a Covenant agent."  
  
A pause as they waited for an answer. Silence.  
  
"Ms. Renfro?"  
  
Again, nothing.  
  
Sark raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Very odd -"  
  
"Baines!" a voice barked through the comm. link. The two gaurds jumped, startled.  
  
"Yes, Ms. Renfro?" Baines replied timidly. Obviously afraid of this woman.  
  
Sark groaned inwardly. A pair of bloody fools, these two were. He could feel himself getting impatient with them already – his deepest sympathies went out to the poor sod who had hired them.  
  
"Sound the alarm, right now! They're not Covenant agents. Find them!"  
  
The two gaurds gawked at him.  
  
Sark resisted the temptation to laugh. "You better hurry up, then."

* * *

An alarm went off suddenly, sending Vaughn into a frenzied panic. "Dammit," he cursed, willing the files on the computer to download faster.  
  
91%  
  
96%  
  
100%  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief, whipped out the disk and prayed that Sydney would be at the rendezvous point.  
  
She wasn't.  
  
He ran through the hallways, searching for his partner.  
  
"Syd!"  
  
There she was, finally, walking calmly towards him. Vaughn frowned, confused. Her clothes were different to what she was wearing before and her chestnut her flowed freely around her shoulders – why had she changed? He didn't bother to ask. They had to get out of here, pronto.  
  
"Syd, let's go." He called to her.  
  
Sydney glanced at him briefly, her eyes oddly cold. And she kept walking, ignoring him completely.  
  
"Sydney!" Vaughn repeated, louder.  
  
No response.  
  
He grabbed her arm as she passed him. "What the hell is up with you, Syd?" he said angrily. "We have to go before they get us!"  
  
Sydney shook him off violently. "Get. Off. Me." her voice was deadly quiet, her eyes glowering at him menacingly.  
  
Vaughn was momentarily stunned, unable to do anything as she turned a corner and disappeared from sight. What had happened to her?  
  
"Vaughn, where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere!"  
  
He turned to see an agitated Sydney standing beside him, wearing a suit and a black wig.  
  
"What the........." he muttered. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews guys. I really appreciate it! And yes, Max will definitely appear in the story ( not just in the flashbacks ) but I'm not sure about Logan, though. Just to let you know, there will be hints of Sark/Lauren in this chapter, but it'll eventually become Sark/Julia.  
  
Black Rose: This will probably be mostly Alias, that's why I put it in the Alias category. But there will be quite a lot of Dark Angel too. It's not really in any season of Dark Angel – I kinda screwed it up a bit to suit my story. : )  
  
**Chapter Two**  
  
Her first mission.  
  
Only a few hours to go. So many times she had watched her brothers and sisters leave for missions, sitting up at night wondering whether they'd come back – sometimes they did, occasionally they didn't – but it was her turn now.  
  
"Hey." There was a screech of chair legs against tiles and a bowl of food was dumped next to her on the table.  
  
She glanced up from her own bowl of food to see her dark haired brother Krit, grinning down at her. "Hey. Don't smile too much. They're watching us." She motioned to the guard standing at the corner of the cafeteria.  
  
Krit rolled his eyes and sat down. "Right. We're soldiers. Not supposed to be happy. Got it." He picked up his spoon, stirring the sloppy, greyish contents of his bowl in disgust. "Like we can ever be happy when we've got pureed cardboard for breakfast!"  
  
A heavy sigh came from behind. "Tell me about it." Their sister Max joined them at the table. "After all we do for Manticore you'd think they'd give us actual food."  
  
Max turned to her suddenly. "So, today's the day, huh."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"Excited?"  
  
"Yes." And scared too. Scared she'd fail Manticore. She'd been brainwashed enough to actually care. Or maybe it was just the punishment that awaited her if she did fail.  
  
"Don't be nervous. You'll be fine." Max assured her quietly.  
  
She was momentarily stunned at her sister's random act of kindness – they had always been taught to be unfeeling.  
  
"Maxie, don't read my mind like that, ok? It's creepy."  
  
Although it seemed that she had dismissed Max's comforting gesture, the two sisters shared a smile that remained unseen by the guards.  
  
That night she left.  
  
Her mission was a success – three shots to her targets chest and he was dead. Easy. Never even knew what hit him.  
  
She wanted to tell her brothers and sisters all about it, but when she returned they were all gone.  
  
Escaped.  
  
Without her.  
  
Years later the hurt still hadn't gone away.

* * *

Sark was taking her to London. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the right move, but he had some business to finish off with Lauren, and no, it didn't involve the bedroom. For once.  
  
He glanced across the aisle of the private jet. She was sitting on the seat opposite him staring out the window, fascinated, as if she had never looked out the window of an airplane before.  
  
Sark watched her curiously. As the photo on her file had suggested, she was a mirror image of Sydney Bristow. That didn't surprise him so much – he'd seen much stranger things in his lifetime – what he wanted to know was WHY she was a mirror image of Sydney Bristow. But of course, the Covenant had conveniently left out that little detail.  
  
"So what shall I call you?" Sark queried, speaking to her for the first time. "X5-475? Julia?"  
  
She whipped around, visibly stiffening at his question. Frowning, she stared at the floor in front of her almost angrily.  
  
Five minutes passed and Sark didn't get an answer from her.  
  
Ok, fine.  
  
"Perhaps you should get changed," he tried again. "You'll stand out like a sore thumb with those army fatigues on. There are some clothes in the bathroom; I'm sure they'll fit you nicely."  
  
She immediately left without a word and Sark didn't know whether or not to be insulted at her eagerness to leave him.  
  
To be honest, Sark was disappointed. He had expected – what had he expected? Someone more interesting? Or someone more like.........Sydney?  
  
Sark had always been fascinated by Sydney Bristow. He wouldn't go so far as to say he liked her, or had feelings for her, but she certainly had been a thrill to work with during his limited time at SD-6. Part of the thrill was her dismissive attitude towards him and the rude remarks he'd receive every time he tried to strike up a conversation with her. She was a feisty thing, Agent Bristow. Had he assumed, because she was identical to her, that the woman in his custody would be just like Sydney?  
  
He mentally slapped himself. Why did he care? He hastily put it down to him needing someone to make his increasingly repetitive job more exciting.  
  
Ah, but hadn't Lauren already filled that position?  
  
The bathroom door opened, relieving Sark from his thoughts. She came out wearing a tight fitting black turtleneck and faded blue jeans, and did not look bad at all. In fact, she looked quite good.  
  
She caught him staring at her. She met his gaze steadily, challenging him, and for the briefest moment Sark was unsure what she was going to do next.  
  
Then a smirk flashed across her usually stoic features, and disappeared just as quickly.  
  
Sark blinked.  
  
Interesting, indeed.

* * *

"She looked just like her. Her voice sounded the same, and she even walked like her. I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference if it weren't for the fact that she was wearing different clothes and that she didn't seem to recognize me at all."  
  
Weiss shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this. Are you sure you just didn't drink one to many beers at the hockey game last night, man?"  
  
"I don't believe it either. And no, I was perfectly sober when I saw her," Vaughn informed his friend.  
  
There was silence as the two agents tried to get their heads around the fact that there were two Sydney's walking around.  
  
"Did you tell Sydney?" Weiss said after a pause.  
  
"No."  
  
Weiss shot him a disapproving look.  
  
"What?" Vaughn defended himself. "What was I supposed to tell her? 'Sydney, guess what, you have an evil twin'? I think she'd had enough shocking revelations to last her two lifetimes. I don't think she needs another."  
  
"Well, we can't keep this to ourselves. It's too big. We have to tell Dixon, at least," Weiss said testily.  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Weiss and Vaughn froze in their chairs.  
  
"Well?"  
  
They turned slowly to see Dixon and Lauren standing before them. Vaughn sighed uneasily and silently motioned for all of them to go to the debriefing room, where he told them about the woman he saw at Manticore.  
  
Dixon sat down slowly. "Who do you think she is?"  
  
"I don't know," Vaughn replied. "The only explanation I could come up with was Project Helix."  
  
"Didn't Sydney destroy that device?" Weiss put in.  
  
"Yes. But it's possible that there was a second device, or maybe someone made another one after Dr. Markovic died," Vaughn suggested.  
  
"Then what was she doing at Manticore? Is she part of the Covenant?" Weiss fired back, knowing that no one in the room would know the answers to his questions.  
  
"I already said that I didn't know."  
  
"Was I talking to you?"  
  
"Vaughn, Weiss!" Dixon interjected before a brawl started. Clearly this woman had the pair slightly spooked – they rarely fought with each other. "I suggest that we not pursue this lead until Marshall recovers the files Vaughn and Sydney stole from Manticore. They might have some information on this woman."  
  
"And what if they don't?" Lauren asked, speaking for the first time.  
  
"Then we'll withhold the information Vaughn has given us from Sydney and Jack and find out who she is some other way."  
  
"What?" Vaughn and Weiss exclaimed together, although they had both heard him perfectly.  
  
Dixon's concern for the Bristows was evident. "We're not going to tell Sydney and Jack about this. They've both got enough on their plates already, especially Sydney," he said calmly, expecting resistance from Vaughn and Weiss.  
  
"We can't do that," Vaughn objected, making it clear he didn't like the idea.  
  
"They'll both be furious when they find out we've been hiding something from them," Weiss agreed. "They deserve to know what's going on. And besides, they'll figure out that something's up."  
  
"I agree with Dixon," Lauren interrupted. "Sydney and Jack are two of the CIA's most valuable assets. This will undoubtedly affect them and we can't afford to have their judgment impaired. Manticore is important in revealing the Covenant's endgame. We need Sydney and Jack if we want to take down the Covenant."  
  
Typically, Lauren was looking at the business side of things. Sure, Weiss liked Vaughn's wife, but he doubted she cared much about Jack or Sydney's mental well-being.  
  
And he couldn't help thinking that Sydney and Jack had worked brilliantly when the CIA was hunting down Irina Derevko – which, he thought it was safe to say, was much more personal than this was. But needless to say, the Bristows always worked brilliantly. There was no doubt about that.  
  
"None of this is to leave this room, do you all understand? That's an order, Weiss," Dixon pressed when he got no acknowledgement from him.  
  
Weiss nodded reluctantly. "Right."

* * *

Lauren left the debriefing room after a short conversation with her husband. She discreetly slipped into small room by herself and took out her cell phone, punching in the number of her Covenant superior, McKenas Cole.  
  
"Yeeees?" McKenas answered comically in his usual cocky drawl.  
  
"The CIA's got the information on Manticore," she told him shortly, less than impressed with his unserious manner.  
  
"Good. Just as planned, huh?" He sounded pleased.  
  
"There's one problem, though. Agent Vaughn saw X5-475 while he was there."  
  
There was a thwarted pause. "Was he suspicious?"  
  
"Of course he was," she retorted impatiently. "He reported it to Director Dixon. Agent Weiss and I are the only other people who know about it. We've been ordered not to tell Sydney Bristow."  
  
"Good. Keep it that way. And make sure they don't find out anything more about 475."  
  
"Fine."  
  
She hung up and dialed another number – Sark's.  
  
"Change of plans. We're going to Washington."

* * *

Lauren dumped some disks on the table in front of Sark. "These are the disks that Agent Bristow and Vaughn used to copy some of Manticore's files. I borrowed them from Marshall's desk; he's gone home for the night to look after his baby. We need to work fast and get rid of any information there might be about 475 on those disks so I can get it back by tomorrow morning."  
  
"Well, hello to you too, sweetheart," Sark replied casually, showing no indication that he had paid any attention to what she just said.  
  
Lauren merely glared at him and began loading up the files on the laptop, knowing Sark would join her soon enough. Eventually, she said, "Where is she?"  
  
"In the next room," he leaned back into his chair, "I told her to stay there."  
  
"I assume Director Renfro didn't give you too much trouble about taking her away."  
  
Sark laughed dryly. "There was no trouble at all. She practically threw the poor woman at me as soon as I voiced my request. Maybe it was to make up for mistaking Sydney and Vaughn for Covenant agents. She must have apologized a thousand times."  
  
"Does she look as much like Sydney as everyone says she does?" Lauren asked, her eyes fixed on the computer screen.  
  
Sark nodded slowly. "Yes, very much so. But I'm beginning to think that she's mute."  
  
Lauren looked up sharply. "Mute?"  
  
"She has not said a word since I took her into my custody. Or responded to anything I've said to her." Well, there was that split second where she had smirked at him, but Sark was beginning to think he had imagined that incident. "She's very obedient though."  
  
"Well, she was designed to obey orders," Lauren speculated. "Perhaps she thinks that she's not supposed to talk back to you."  
  
Sark frowned, considering it. "Possibly."  
  
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Now shut up and help me, will you?"  
  
Obediently Sark moved to sit next to her. For two hours they worked on the files picking out anything they thought would reveal the fact that the woman was an X5.  
  
"I'm going to get a drink," Sark muttered wearily. He got up and walked to the kitchen of the penthouse, deciding to check on 475 on the way.  
  
Opening the door of the room he had left her in, he found that it was quiet and empty.  
  
She was gone. 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Sorry for the extremely long delay – I had a ton of assignments and exams, and to top it all off, writers block. But thanks for waiting, I hope you like it! And thank you to all who reviewed – you're the greatest.  
  
**Chapter Three  
**  
For the first time, Manticore was afraid – their soldiers had turned against them. The ones that had been left behind were now being punished for what the escapees had done. Life at Manticore was worse than ever before.  
  
Julia knew that the other X5s hated her brothers and sisters. At first she didn't share that hatred – they would come back and get her when it was safe. She knew they'd never forget about her.  
  
No, she was glad they had escaped. But then Manticore started calling them up, one by one, into Psy-Ops. They were tortured, mentally and physically, for information.  
  
How did the rogue X5s escape?  
  
Did they plan their escape?  
  
Who's idea was it?  
  
Some broke under the pressure. And some refused to talk. But Manticore didn't give up, not even when a few of the X5s died from the damage Manticore was inflicting on their bodies. Julia was afraid – she didn't want to betray her brothers and sisters, but she didn't want to die.  
  
She kept reminding herself that they would come and free her. But months went by and they never came. More X5s suffered, including herself. That was when doubt slowly descended upon her, then a realization that they weren't coming back at all – they were free from the horrors of Manticore. Why would they want to come back? Why would they care about what was happening to the rest their family? They were a distant memory, nothing the escapees were going to worry too much about.  
  
Resentment built up inside of her. Was all their pain worth the freedom of twelve X5s?

* * *

He decided to wait for her. Something told him she'd come back. Either that or he was too egotistical to admit that he shouldn't have left her alone. Most likely the latter.  
  
Fifteen minutes later she slipped silently through the window and landed gracefully on her feet, stopping short when she saw him sitting on the bed.  
  
"Where have you been?" he said tersely.  
  
As soon as the words left his mouth, Sark asked himself why he had even bothered. She wasn't going to answer him.  
  
He sighed, irritated. They didn't have time for this. "I advise you not to do that again. I can't afford to have you disappearing like that, do you understand? I don't want to have to resort to chaining you to something."  
  
Predictably, he got no response. Not a flicker of emotion on her face. She seemed to have frozen in her spot by the window, her expression hardened and cold. Sark was unable to decide whether she was embarrassed at being caught out or whether she was angry, again.  
  
Assuming that she had understood, Sark got up to leave. "We'll be going soon. Don't go anywhere." He fixed her with a warning glance and turned around.  
  
"Is this a trick?"  
  
Sark halted.  
  
"It's a trick, isn't it," the voice came again from behind him.  
  
This time Sark turned back to the X5. "Did you say something?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
She took a bold step towards him. "What's going on?"  
  
The slightest bit of surprise flickered across his features. So now she decided to talk – what had changed? "I said that we'd be leaving soon, just as I finish up some business with my associate."  
  
"No, no, that's not what I meant," she snapped. "I'm not exactly used to getting shipped away from Manticore by some rich British jerk who carts me around and locks me in a room for hours on end with nothing to do. What am I doing here? Where are we going? And why the hell are you being so nice to me?"  
  
Sark opened his mouth to protest. Rich British jerk?  
  
Ok, maybe it was true.  
  
She still hadn't finished. She began to pace a little, confusion and anger starting to break through her calm façade. "It's a trick. It must be a new Psy-Op to see how disciplined we are on missions. Why else would you ask me if I wanted to be called Julia and not punish me when I didn't obey your instructions? Or maybe you're just trying to get me to trust you and put my guard down, is that it? Huh?" she demanded.  
  
So she'd finally cracked. Unfortunately Sark had no idea what she was talking about, though, and despite the fact he had bled all of his sources for any information about Manticore, he had discovered nothing. Not even a rumour. One thing was sure – Manticore had done an exceptional job in making sure no one knew they existed.  
  
He had, however, gotten hold of some of the information on X5-475 from the disks that Agents Vaughn and Bristow had stolen from Manticore. Ah, so CIA agents were good for something after all. Sark made a mental note to look at those files later.  
  
Back to the task at hand – he'd better calm this woman down before she did something insane.  
  
Of course, he had no idea how to do that. He was an expert at manipulating, blackmailing and negotiating with people ( skills he'd learnt during his time with Irina Derevko ) but he couldn't deal with this.  
  
"I'd love to be able to answer your questions," Sark began slowly. "But I'm afraid I don't have a clue what's going on either."  
  
Did he just say that? What happened to the Sark who was always in control?  
  
"Sure you don't," came the sarcastic reply. She immediately shut her eyes and drew in a composing breath. "Sorry," she muttered, her usual stoic expression settling back onto her face. "It's just – this is weird. You won't shoot me if I sit down, will you?"  
  
Sark was taken aback. Sure, he was a total prick sometimes – he briefly remembered back to the time he had doused Sydney Bristow in flesh eating acid – but he certainly wouldn't shoot someone for sitting down.  
  
Well, maybe if the situation called for it.  
  
"No."  
  
"Ok." She tentatively made her way to sit on the bed, as if she honestly thought he was going to shoot her anyway. She tensed ever so slightly when Sark sat next to her.  
  
"Look, I don't know how much you know about –"  
  
"Absolutely nothing," she cut in curtly, staring at the wall.  
  
Right. Start again, then. "Fair enough. I was told to take you into custody. I don't know why and I don't know what's going to happen to you." He couldn't believe he was telling her this. "But I assure you this is not a trick."  
  
She nodded, not looking at him. "I guess I believe you. But what are we supposed to do in the mean time?"  
  
"I don't know. It's a rather odd situation, really."  
  
Sark caught her stifling a laugh. "What?" he demanded with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.  
  
She bit her lip, controlling herself. After vacillating over whether or not to say anything, she declared, "You speak like an 80 year old. 'It's a rather odd situation, really,'" she said, imitating his British accent perfectly.  
  
Sark glared at her. "At least the extent of my vocabulary doesn't only consist of the words 'dude' and 'mate', like you Americans."  
  
"'Mate' is an Australian word, actually," she pointed out evenly, and Sark could've sworn he had seen a mischievous glint in her eye.  
  
Before Sark could think of another retort, Lauren interrupted at the doorway.  
  
"You found her." Lauren glanced warily at the X5.  
  
"Actually, she found me," Sark corrected.  
  
"Right. Well, I have to go back to LA. My plane's waiting for me. See you," Lauren said to Sark, sending a seductive smile his way.  
  
"Not if I see you first, love." He stood up and watched her leave.  
  
"Girlfriend?" There was a hint of amusement in her voice.  
  
"Not exactly." Sark turned back to her. "She's married."  
  
"To you?"  
  
"No."  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "That's dangerous ground you're stepping on there."  
  
"I know." He quickly decided to change the subject. "You never answered my question before."  
  
"Which question?"  
  
"What do you want me to call you – Julia or 475?"  
  
The friendliness drained out of her. "I'd prefer it if you'd call me 475," she said tightly after a moments pause.  
  
Sark immediately regretted bringing that up again. She seemed to withdraw every time he asked and he couldn't quite figure out why.

* * *

"So what have we got, Marshall?" Dixon asked, looking at him from across the debriefing room.  
  
Grinning broadly, Marshall jumped out of his seat to address the group of CIA agents. "Well guys, the files that Sydney and Vaughn stole from Manticore proved to be very useful. By the way, uh, job well done guys," he faltered, nodding towards Sydney and Vaughn.  
  
Sydney smiled warmly at him.  
  
Marshall beamed at her acknowledgment and then quickly refocused his attention back to Dixon's question. "What I found on the Manticore files pretty much consisted of some profiles of twelve X5s and some footage of them training."  
  
"Twelve?" Vaughn echoed incredulously. "You mean, there are more of them? We only saw two."  
  
"Oh yes," Marshall nodded. "There's definitely more than two. There's more than twelve, even."  
  
"How many are we talking about here?" Jack asked edgily.  
  
Marshall silently switched on the screen at the front of the room and some video footage appeared. Thirty or so children donning what seemed like light blue hospital gowns stood in pairs in a large room covered with blue mats. They were all sparring with their partners – but not the clumsy, playful sparring one would expect from a child. These kids knew what they were doing. Each one fought just as well, or even better, than the best agent in the CIA. Their movements were sharp, fast and used with deadly accuracy and their defence moves were just as effective.  
  
"Wow," Weiss commented after a moment's silence. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm a little scared here."  
  
"Marshall, are you sure these are X5s?" Sydney asked, ignoring Weiss. "The X5s we saw had to be at least twenty years old."  
  
"That's because," Marshall paused as he picked up a remote control. "These are the X5s when they were, say, ten years old. See?" An X5 profile appeared on the computers screens on their desks. A mug shot of an unsmiling X5 with an extremely harsh buzz cut. "This particular X5, X5- 599," he read off the top of the profile, "Is right.......here."  
  
Marshall pointed to a boy in the video that was still playing at the front of the room – it was undoubtedly the same kid, delivering a perfectly executed round house kick to his opponent's head, who managed to dodge it just in time.  
  
"If that's what they could do when they were ten years old, can you imagine what they can do now?" Marshall marveled, like a child who'd just met Barney. "It's amazing, isn't it? It's just like something out of a science fiction movie. But it's bad, very bad," he added hastily once he saw the appalled look on Sydney's face. "Horrible thing to do to children."  
  
Vaughn, who had been reading over the file more thoroughly, spoke up. "Hey, it says here that X5-599 escaped from Manticore."  
  
Marshall's eyes lit up as if remembering something important. "Ah, yes! There is more to this story. Why, may you ask, are there only twelve profiles when there are over thirty X5s? Well these twelve X5s managed to escape from Manticore thirteen years ago."  
  
"What?!" Weiss exclaimed. "So you're telling me there have been twelve genetically modified super soldiers running around? Should we be worried?"  
  
"No, no, no, this is good," Sydney interrupted slowly.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Weiss said, unable to comprehend how this situation was good.  
  
"This could be a lead. For all we know, these X5s are still out there. Maybe we can find them," Sydney explained. "I know it's a long shot because these photos are thirteen years old, but let's face it – the information we've got doesn't reveal much about the Covenant. If we find even one X5 and take them into custody, maybe they could give us something we need."  
  
Jack nodded. "I agree. We assume that the Covenant is using Manticore and the X5s but we still don't know why or how. This would offer us a once if a lifetime opportunity. Otherwise it's a dead end – we've got nothing else."  
  
"I don't disagree with you but if we do manage to find one of these X5s, there's no guarantee that they'll talk," Dixon pointed out.  
  
"Well, they can't be loyal to Manticore, considering they escaped. We've got that working to our advantage," Lauren said.  
  
"Exactly. Who knows – maybe they'll want to bring Manticore down," Sydney agreed.  
  
"Right." Dixon stood up. "It looks like we have no choice. We'll use all our resources to find these X5s. You're all dismissed."  
  
As everyone stood to leave, Sydney hung back.  
  
"Are you coming, Sydney?" her father asked from the doorway.  
  
"Yeah, just a second," she replied distractedly, pretending to be preoccupied with the papers on her desk. As Jack left she stood up to inspect something she'd spotted in the video footage a few minutes earlier. She rewound it to the spot she wanted and peered at one particular X5, who was flipping another over her shoulder. The X5 whooped triumphantly before noticing the presence of the camera, and hastily muted her excitement.  
  
There was nothing particularly special about this X5, but Sydney couldn't help but notice an uncanny resemblance – to her. She looked just like Sydney when she had been eight years old. Minus the shaved head, of course.  
  
Sydney stared at the screen for a few more minutes and then shook her head, telling herself that she was being ridiculous. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**  
  
"This is your house?" she said in awe. She had pretty much ignored Sark during the whole journey there, but she couldn't help but ask.  
  
"Yes," Sark replied.  
  
"Does the queen live here too?" Julia muttered under her breath. The place was huge – like a palace. Hence the question about the British royal family.  
  
"No, she's not really my type. I don't go for older women," Sark half joked.  
  
Julia was far from amused. She couldn't see why he was making small talk with her – he was supposed to be holding her captive, not making a new friend! Ok, so she was the one who'd started the conversation, and yes, he was intriguing. Not to mention the fact that he kept trying to talk to her as if she were a normal person. That had unsettled her at first, but she had to admit – she kind of liked it.  
  
"It's just me," Sark added after his attempt at a joke had failed.  
  
"And you need such a big house because......." she trailed off.  
  
"I like having a lot of space," Sark filled in simply.  
  
"Apparently so much space that you could provide shelter for the entire population of India," Julia retorted.  
  
Sark shrugged, unabashed. "You never know when unexpected visitors may show up." He looked at her knowingly. She presumed that he was talking about her.  
  
"Visitors, or people you've kidnapped?" she asked, smiling in spite of herself.  
  
Sark motioned for her to follow him. "For your information, I did not kidnap you. Kidnapping requires a certain amount of resistance on your part. You came willingly."  
  
"Willingly, my ass!" Julia snorted as the pair made their way through a maze of hallways. "You think I had a choice in the matter?"  
  
"Probably not," Sark admitted after a moments pause. "I must say, you're certainly a lot more talkative now than you were on the plane. What, don't you like flying?"  
  
That shut her up. No more small talk. "I like flying, ok?" she said, the phrase coming out a lot more harshly than she'd intended.  
  
Sark looked visibly confused at her sudden change in demeanor, but he covered it up very quickly. Damn, this guy was good. Julia almost felt sorry for him. He must have thought that she had a terrible mood swing problem.  
  
They finally reached their destination. It was a room with a beautiful antique four poster bed in the middle of the room and a matching wardrobe and bedside table.  
  
She frowned slightly. "What -"  
  
"This is where you'll be staying," Sark interrupted before she could finish.  
  
Say what? She stepped into the room a little cautiously. Definitely a change of lifestyle.  
  
"Wow," she murmured. She loved antique furniture. It was such a contrast to the cold stone greys of Manticore. Snapping out of a trance, she looked at her captor almost suspiciously. What was he trying to prove? No one treated her this nicely without an ulterior motive behind their actions. She quickly reminded herself that, no matter how different he was to the people at Manticore, she still had to be wary of him.  
  
"You don't like it?"  
  
"No! I mean, yeah, it's great. I like it." She forced a smile.  
  
"Good. Now let me set down the ground rules. You can wander around the house and the garden as you please, but you are not to escape. If you try to escape, there are snipers surrounding the border of this property who have been ordered to shoot you. Understand?"  
  
Julia nodded quickly. Snipers – now that sounded more like what she had been expecting. "I can do whatever I like?"  
  
"Within reason. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. If you need anything, come find me," Sark said curtly, and left.  
  
She could tell that she'd pissed him off, but quite frankly, she didn't care. She had just wanted him to go away, so she could get her head around the events of the past few days.  
  
Julia lay back on the bed – wow, silk sheets – and sighed. Not knowing what was going to happen to her was driving her crazy. And she didn't believe Sark for a second when he'd told her that he had no idea what was going on. How did he expect her to just wait around?  
  
And as for Sark, he unnerved her. Every time she spoke to him she started to let her guard down. It had happened twice already, and she couldn't afford for that to happen – especially since she was unsure of what he was up to. But why it was happening at all confused her the most. She never let her guard down, not ever, and most of all, she never trusted anyone. She'd learnt to do that the hard way after her brothers and sisters had betrayed her.  
  
_Right,_ she decided, _I'm not talking to him unless I have to._  
  
Julia sat up suddenly, noticing something on the ceiling. Bloody Sark. She narrowed her eyes and then stormed out of the room.  
  
She found Sark eventually; sitting at what she assumed was the dining room table, looking at something on his laptop.  
  
"There are cameras in my room!" she burst out indignantly, telling herself that this was indeed a situation in which she 'had' to talk to him.  
  
Sark looked up and smirked at her. "I wondered how long it would take you to realise that. That was a lot faster than I expected."  
  
"Well, what happened to the 'I'm-giving-you-the-benefit-of-the-doubt' speech a few minutes ago?" she demanded, the cocky look on his infuriating her even more.  
  
"You don't think that I trust you completely, do you? I still don't know what you're capable of. And besides, after that little outing of yours back in Washington, I've decided that I better be keeping an eye on you."  
  
"And how exactly am I supposed to get changed?"  
  
Sark stared at her innocently. "I won't look, honestly." But the suggestive tone of his voice told her that he most definitely wanted to.  
  
Julia rolled her eyes. "There better not be any cameras in the bathroom!" she yelled over her shoulder as she walked out.

* * *

"Dixon! Director Dixon!" Marshall came charging through the CIA Operations Center, tripping over a few items of furniture on the way. "Oooh, sorry. Excuse me," he apologized profusely to an agent that he'd run into. "Dixon!"  
  
"What is it, Marshall?" Dixon asked the bumbling man, halting his conversation with Vaughn.  
  
"I think I've found a way to find the X5s," Marshall said breathlessly, handing Dixon some photos. "I used some software to age the X5s in the photographs, to give as an idea of what they might look like as adults."  
  
Dixon flipped through the photographs. Attractive twenty-something X5s stared back up at him. "Impressive."  
  
"Thanks. I didn't know what kinda hairstyles the X5s had so stole a few hairstyles from some of my favourite movies. See that one? That's from Miss Congeniality, when Gracie got into the top 5. And might I add, Sandra Bullock is _hot_ in that movie -"  
  
"Hey, I heard that!" Carrie yelled from her desk a few metres away.  
  
Marshall went pale. "Oh, uh, well she's nothing compared to you, honey......." he stammered.  
  
"So where do we go from here?" Vaughn asked before Marshall wet himself.  
  
"I suggest we run a search on the computer and see if we get any hits on these pictures," Dixon began. "But we don't know what their aliases are, which doesn't help."  
  
"Actually......" Vaughn frowned, remembering something. "Their profiles had aliases on them. X5-599's profile said 'Zack'. I thought they weren't supposed to have names."  
  
"If they didn't want to be found, wouldn't they change their names?" Marshall asked.  
  
"It's worth a shot," Dixon said. "How long do you think this will take?"  
  
"Well, we've got to assume that these guys would be extremely good at covering their tracks. They're spies, right? But give me a day, and I'll tell you if I get anything," Marshall told him.

* * *

Not having experienced this sort of freedom before, Julia didn't quite know what to do with herself. Sark was busy doing something – work, she assumed – so that left her to amuse herself. She wandered aimlessly around the entire house, admiring it, and at the same time unconsciously memorizing the hallways so that she wouldn't get lost. Finally, Julia made her way into the library. It was the largest personal collection of books she'd ever seen.  
  
She drew in a deep breath and the musty smell of paper and wood filled her nose. It was oddly comforting. Walking over to a tall shelf, she inspected the vast amount of books, finally picking up one that she thought would be interesting.  
  
"Alice in Wonderland," she read aloud. She wasn't entirely sure why this one sounded so appealing to her – it looked like a children's book – but she curled up in a chair anyway and started reading, finding herself mesmerized.

* * *

Sark switched off his computer and stretched. He'd had enough of work for one day. Before getting up he glanced at the clock. 3am. 475 was probably asleep. He hadn't heard from her since her outburst about the cameras in her room.  
  
Speaking of that, he'd discovered that she was rather infuriating herself. Not to mention maddeningly unpredictable. It was almost as if she had split personalities.  
  
Well, one thing was for sure – she was definitely interesting.  
  
Sark began to make his way towards his bedroom, only to realise that he wasn't tired. He turned around and headed to the library instead, a desire to read a good book overtaking him.  
  
He didn't expect to find 475 there, asleep on the couch with a copy of Alice in Wonderland. Her whole body was tense, as if to protect herself from something that wasn't there.  
  
He decided to just leave her there, and went to choose a book.  
  
"Wait," a small, obviously distressed voice called out to him.  
  
Sark whirled around, slightly startled. She was still asleep. And having a nightmare, no doubt.  
  
"Don't go, Zack," 475 cried softly in her sleep. "Come back, don't leave me here. Max, wait for me."  
  
Unsure of what to do, Sark stood there awkwardly until she fell silent again, wondering who Zack and Max were.

* * *

Julia hadn't realised that she'd fallen asleep until someone prodded her awake, calling, "Miss? Miss?"  
  
"What......." she mumbled groggily, lifting her eyes up to a woman in her sixties. The first question that popped into her head was – who is this?  
  
"Mr. Sark wanted to know if you want any breakfast," the woman asked politely with an Italian accent.  
  
Julia finally remembered where she was. Sark's house. "Oh. What time is it?"  
  
"8 o'clock."  
  
"Right." She'd been asleep for that long? "Yeah, breakfast would be good."  
  
"Great. It'll be ready soon." She flashed a warm, almost motherly smile in Julia's direction, which she returned half-heartily.  
  
_Freakishly nice,_ Julia thought. She got off the couch, wincing slightly at her stiff limbs and went to have a shower. About ten minutes later – she was low maintenance – she emerged, carefully avoiding the security cameras in the adjoining bedroom, and went to breakfast.  
  
Sark was already there, his plate piled high with pancakes, maple syrup, and.......ice cream.  
  
Julia shook her head in disbelief. "You sure like to eat healthy," she said sarcastically.  
  
"Good morning to you too," he replied without looking up. He motioned towards her own plate of pancakes which was on the table near him. "It's really nice. You should try it."  
  
Julia sat down, and looked at the ice cream skeptically. "Er – no thanks."  
  
"Suit yourself."  
  
They both fell silent, too preoccupied with their breakfast to pay attention to one another.  
  
The pancakes were delicious. Julia noted that if there was anything good about being taken away from everything she knew by some guy she didn't know, it was definitely the pancakes. Actually, the whole situation in general was much better than being at Manticore. She couldn't get used to though – it wasn't going to last.  
  
She glanced at Sark, getting a good look at him for the first time. Calling him a guy she didn't know was an understatement, but at least he wasn't that bad looking. Hmm, he was kinda hot, even.  
  
"Will you stop staring at me?" Sark snapped finally.  
  
Julia ignored him. "What are you, exactly?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.  
  
Sark gave her a strange look. "A male human being, as far as I'm aware."  
  
"That's not what I meant! I mean, do you work for Manticore, or what?"  
  
"No. I'm a Covenant agent. I thought you knew that," Sark replied, puzzled.  
  
"No, I didn't. Manticore prefers us to be uninformed. You know, do-what- you're-told-you-don't-need-to-know-the-details, that sort of thing. It's bloody annoying," she told him. Wait, why was she even telling him this?  
  
"I know exactly what you mean. The Covenant never tells me anything. Sometimes I can't help but feel as if they're -" Sark's phone rang. He looked somewhat relieved when it happened, as if it had just prevented him from almost revealing something too personal.  
  
Julia knew the feeling.  
  
"Yes?" Sark said into the phone.  
  
Julia's enhanced hearing picked up the conversation between Sark and the person on the other end clearly.  
  
"They're ready to see the X5 now," said the female voice. Julia recognised her as Sark's little mistress from Washington.  
  
"Right. What are the terms?" Was it just her or did Sark sound a little disappointed?  
  
"They'll meet you at the warehouse at Brighton St. Tomorrow, 1am."  
  
"OK." He hung up and turned to her. "Look's like the Covenant wants to meet with you."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**  
  
Sark and Julia arrived at the warehouse fashionably late, ignoring the irritated glares of the Covenant agents they were supposed to meet.  
  
Julia took in her surroundings warily. The large room was sinisterly dark – which wasn't surprising considering it was the early hours of the morning – but it nevertheless increased the growing sense of foreboding that had been building up inside of her since they'd left Sark's house. A single chair with restraints was placed in front of a screen.  
  
_They grabbed Julia roughly by the arms and forced her to sit in the chair. She knew better than to fight them. They slapped the restraints around her wrists and ankles despite the fact that she was being completely submissive.  
  
"Look at the screen!" the TAC leader barked at her.  
  
This time she didn't comply. She knew what they were going to do to her.  
  
"LOOK!"  
  
"Screw you," she spat out contemptuously.  
  
He slapped her sharply across the face. She let no pain register; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Instead she stared back at him with cold eyes, daring him to hit her again.  
  
The TAC leader violently wrenched her head back, putting his face dangerously close to hers. "X5-475, look at the screen, or I will make you."  
  
Still she refused. "I'm so scared," she said mockingly.  
  
The TAC leader was almightily pissed. He muttered something to one of the guards, who disappeared, and a few minutes later returned with a vial of liquid. A mild sting in the inside of her elbow told Julia that he was injecting her with this liquid.  
  
Moments later she couldn't move.  
  
A neuro-toxin.  
  
"Don't worry, it'll wear off soon enough," the TAC leader informed her smugly. "You brought this on yourself, remember. And don't think you won't be punished."  
  
Now she had no choice but to look at the screen. She was paralysed – she couldn't even shut her eyes to block out the images that were going to bombard her mind.  
  
A picture of Zack appeared.  
  
Traitor, said the caption underneath.  
  
Then a picture of Max.  
  
Coward, it said.  
  
Jondy.  
  
Snake.  
  
Syl.  
  
Rogue.  
  
She stared straight ahead and tried to ignore it.  
  
These things may have been true. But Manticore wanted her to hate them because they had been disobedient. They wanted her to believe that Manticore was the only place they'd belong, that they were no good for anything except killing. That the escapees would come back, ashamed, after realising what a mistake they'd made by escaping.  
  
But of course, the escapees never came back.  
  
Julia didn't hate them because they had been disobedient. She didn't give a rat's ass about that. She hated them because they'd betrayed her.  
  
Julia wanted to make up her own mind about her brothers and sisters. Her own mind. And Manticore wasn't going to take that away from her.  
_  
"You can leave now, Mr. Sark," one of the Covenant agents said, interrupting her reverie.  
  
Julia blinked in surprise, realising that she hadn't been paying attention. She snuck a look at Sark, who looked remotely annoyed, but complied. Now she knew what he'd meant during their brief conversation over breakfast.  
  
She felt more afraid now that Sark had left. It would have been easier to have a familiar face there, even if he was a little indifferent. She knew that the Covenant was brutal and merciless, and she wondered what they were going to subject her to.  
  
The unsmiling Covenant agents turned towards her. "Julia Thorne," one of them addressed her with a heavy Russian accent. "We are meeting you at last. I am Nicolas Kipic and this is Alexei Banichev."  
  
She nodded at them in acknowledgment, inwardly wincing at his use of her alias. She didn't like it when people called her that, but she'd learnt to deal with it, because, well, it had been her choice to use it.  
  
"Sit down," Banichev told her gruffly, sounding and looking more like a caveman than anything else.  
  
Julia sat down abruptly at a table; the Covenant agents took their place opposite her.  
  
"The Covenant has something we'd like you to do. It's very important," Kipic started solemnly.  
  
"I call tell," Julia murmured sardonically, prompting a glare from the man. The pair seemed to take their jobs so seriously it was almost comical. At first their cloak-and-dagger act had seemed intimidating, but suddenly Julia felt her fear dissipate. Why should she be afraid? She was an X5; she could break their necks in a second. "Right. Go on," she pressed, putting on a serious face.  
  
"We want you to get access to the CIA Operations Centre and kill these agents for us," Kipic pushed some photos in front of her, of what she assumed were the agents she was to kill.  
  
Julia flipped through them, reading out their names. "Marcus Dixon. Eric Weiss. Marshall Flinkman. Jack Bristow. Michael Vaughn -" she stopped. She recognised this man – the crazy guy from Manticore who kept calling her 'Sydney'. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she said, "Sounds easy enough. But there's one problem. How exactly am I going to get into the CIA?"  
  
"We have a solution to that problem. You will pretend to be one of the CIA agents. One that has high level clearance and is trusted by the agents you will kill. You will assume her life and make everyone believe that you are her. No one will suspect you."  
  
"What?" Julia scoffed. "I can't just waltz in into the CIA, pretending to be one of their agents. The very fact that I look nothing like her will blow my cover. They can't be that stupid."  
  
"You will change your mind when you see the agent you will be impersonating." He handed her another photo, in which she found her own face staring back at her.  
  
"This is her?" she questioned doubtfully.  
  
"Yes," Banichev confirmed.  
  
Julia looked at the Covenant agents, to the photo and then at Covenant agents again. "But it's me," she said, hardly convinced.  
  
"No, it's not you."  
  
"Oh, give me a break. She looks exactly like me."  
  
"Precisely. How else did you think you were going to pull this off?"  
  
She watched his face carefully, expecting him to laugh and say 'hey, just kidding!' at any moment. But he didn't. He was being serious. She considered that the Covenant might have simply gotten a picture of her and were just telling her it was someone else, to trick her. But would the Covenant make up something like this, when such an important and dangerous mission was at stake?  
  
"Wow," Julia said softly. Identical to the very last freckle, this woman and her. Completely bizarre. "So who is she?"  
  
"Agent Sydney Bristow," Kipic told her, and added as an afterthought – "Feisty little bitch."  
  
Julia's head snapped up. "Sydney?" That was all the proof she needed – a name.  
  
_Syd!  
  
Sydney, let's go.  
  
What the hell is up with you, Syd? We have to go before they get us!  
_  
Michael Vaughn had been truly convinced that she was Sydney. It made sense now. Perhaps this would work after all.  
  
"So, what are you going to do with Sydney when I'm......pretending to be her?"  
  
"She won't be a problem. We will take her into our custody. Do I take it that you're going to co-operate with us?" Kipic asked.  
  
Julia raised her eyebrows and straightened slightly. "I have a choice?" she said almost hopefully.  
  
"No."  
  
She sighed, deflated. Of course. Why did she even bother? She never had a choice. But she wondered briefly if she did have a choice, would she do it? It wasn't as if she owed the Covenant anything. But.......she was curious about this woman, this Sydney Bristow.  
  
"When do I start then?"  
  
Kipic looked pleased. "Very good. You make my job easier. We don't need to use that, then," he said, motioning to the chair with the restraints. "You will start soon, but right now you will need to learn everything there is to learn about Sydney Bristow."  
  
And for the next few hours, that was exactly what she did. Kipic and Banichev lectured her on Sydney's whole life story, showed her pictures, identified all the people Sydney had ever loved.  
  
_........Sydney's mother died when she was six years old........  
  
........when Sydney was four she got her first goldfish, called Carrot.........  
  
........Will Tippin, Sydney's best friend, now in Witness Protection........  
  
........double agent for the CIA inside SD-6........  
  
........no memory of the last two years.........  
_  
As much as Julia didn't like the Covenant – it was because of them that she was created and had to endure life at Manticore – she had to admit that their plan was clever. Sydney had a close relationship with each of the agents she was supposed to kill. There was no way anyone would suspect her of plotting to murder them. So all she had to do, really, was pretend to cry and mourn for her dead 'friends', and she would get away with it.  
  
But the CIA wouldn't take the killing of five CIA agents lightly. So she either made sure that this mission was successful or she was destined for the top spot on the CIA's Most Wanted List.

* * *

Sark knew there was an intruder in his house before he even set foot in the door. The security system had been completely shut down, and as far as he was aware, the only person with the knowledge to do that was him. Finding said intruder though, proved to be difficult with such a large house. Usually the security system would alert him to where the person was, but its absence was now a hindrance.  
  
His problem was solved when the intruder found him first.  
  
Sark felt someone seize the back of his head, which was promptly smashed into a wall. There was going to be an extremely large and painful bruise there tomorrow. He turned to throw a punch at his attacker, and, judging by their strength, expected to see a man.  
  
Instead he came face to face with none other than Julia Thorne.  
  
Julia leapt back in surprise, barely dodging his punch, and yelped, "Sark!"  
  
Sark, somewhat relieved, tentatively touched his head to figure out the extent of the damage. "Good grief, woman. I let you stay in my house and this is how you treat me?"  
  
"I am so sorry. I thought you were – I don't know – an assassin or something -" She looked completely mortified.  
  
"It didn't occur to you that it might have been the person who happens to live here, coming back home?"  
  
Julia shrugged sheepishly. "Can't be too careful, especially since the security in your house isn't exactly at it's best right now.........."  
  
It suddenly dawned on him. "It was you!"  
  
"Look, before you kill me, the Covenant told me to come back here, but you weren't inside the house," she said hastily. "So I figured you were probably off killing or kidnapping someone for the Covenant as usual, and I didn't know when you'd be back, so I decided to put those skills we learnt at Manticore into good use and break in. But I couldn't do that without setting off the alarm and I didn't want to meet those snipers you were talking about yesterday, not to mention the fact that I was very bored.........so I just shut down the security completely."  
  
Sark was stunned. No one could have possibly hacked into that security system. No one. And with the amount he paid for it, he had certainly been convinced that was the case. Unfortunately not. One thing was for sure – Julia was bloody good at what she did.  
  
He shook his head, clearing it before she saw the awe on his face.  
  
"If you're that pissed, I'll fix it for you, if you want, ok?" she sighed, mistaking his silence for something else.  
  
"No. No, that won't be necessary."  
  
"At least let me fix up your face, alright? Man, look at you. You look horrible," she grinned wickedly after a pause.  
  
Sark made a face at her. "Very funny."  
  
"Come on. Show me where you keep all the First Aid stuff," Julia insisted. "I bet you have an entire pharmacy hidden in here somewhere."  
  
She was right, of course. Sark led her to a room that could only be opened by a security code. He hand hovered over the key pad, waiting for Julia to look away.  
  
Julia rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. What exactly do you think I'm going to do, ambush you with antiseptic?"  
  
"Can't be too careful," Sark shot back, mimicking her in a similar fashion to the way she did him a few days ago.  
  
She gave him a glare that rivaled the evil looks Sydney Bristow reserved only for him, and turned around huffily. He punched in the numbers and the door opened with a hiss, revealing a room filled with everything you'd find in a hospital, minus the doctors and nurses.  
  
"Nice."  
  
Julia walked in and whistled, impressed. "Now, sit," she ordered, pointing to a chair.  
  
Sark sat down, amused at her sudden transformation into Mother Hen. So now he was obeying her orders. And being bossed around by her didn't bother him in the slightest. Whatever was happening to him? What had happened to the bad ass, no-one-ever-tells-me-what-to-do, I-make-my-own-rules Mr. Sark?  
  
Very few women had that effect on him. There was Irina, but he thought that it was more the fact the he was afraid of her that compelled him to do whatever he was told, rather than anything else. There was Lauren, who never put up with any of his crap.  
  
And then there was Julia.  
  
She was now silently cleaning up a cut on his forehead. He hadn't realised that it was bleeding until now.  
  
The gap in conversation let him remember the nagging curiosity he had been feeling since he'd left Julia with the Covenant agents. Unable to keep this curiosity in check, he said, "So what did the Covenant want with you?"  
  
Julia was quiet. He had a feeling she was going to start giving him the silent treatment again.  
  
But she never ceased to surprise him.  
  
"Do you know Sydney Bristow?" she asked him casually.  
  
So they'd told her about Sydney. He wondered briefly how she'd reacted. "Oh, you mean that uptight, overly patriotic CIA agent who wouldn't spare me the time of day even if I was the last person left on this earth? Yes, we've crossed paths a few times."  
  
Julia looked like she wanted to laugh, but refrained. Instead, she settled for, "That bad, is she?"  
  
"She's horrible. She was never very nice to me," Sark complained, sounding more like a wounded puppy than anything else.  
  
"That's because you're an asshole," Julia told him, the corners of her mouth curving upwards slightly.  
  
Seeing this only made Sark want to make her smile even more. "Oh, you always find a way to boost my ego. Or damage it, more like." He found that she was watching him curiously, even suspiciously, as if she could read him perfectly.  
  
It made him slightly uneasy. "What?"  
  
"You hit on her, didn't you." Not a question, just a statement. Like she knew the answer already.  
  
"What?" Sark repeated stupidly.  
  
"You hit on Sydney, and she rejected you."  
  
"What? No!" Sark protested. He had a reputation for being able to get any girl he wanted. And he intended to keep it.  
  
"Mr. Sark got rejected by Sydney Bristow!" Julia exclaimed, now completely convinced. "I've decided that I like her now."  
  
"I did not hit on her."  
  
"Yes you did."  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"Don't deny it!"  
  
Sark sighed. She wasn't going to give up. Julia Thorne had won her first victory over him. "OK, fine. But she didn't even realise that I was hitting on her, so technically, she didn't reject me. OK?"  
  
Julia nodded, a deliciously mischievous smile on her face. "Suuure."  
  
Sark offered her a crooked grin in return, discovering that he didn't mind that she'd embarrassed him. Usually, under no circumstances would he let that happen. But he felt oddly comfortable around her.  
  
And that, in turn, made him feel uncomfortable. 


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N:** We meet Max in this chapter! This Dark Angel part is set around the beginning of Season 2, where Max is in Manticore and then escapes. The details around her escape are somewhat different, though – Manticore didn't get burnt down and the rest of the transgenics didn't escape, it was only her. The rest will be explained in the rest of the story.  
  
**Chapter Six  
**  
"Uh oh, here comes trouble, boo," Original Cindy warned from her spot by the locker.  
  
"What is it?" Max said distractedly, rummaging through her bag for her pager.  
  
"Look. New girl," she nodded her head at the pretty woman at the front desk talking to Normal. "Hope she isn't one of those goody two shoes that actually does what she's told. Coz she's not bad looking."  
  
"Give her a break, OC, we don't even know her yet. Maybe she's just like the rest of us delinquents," Max grinned, finally retrieving her pager and held it up triumphantly in the air. "Got it."  
  
"Expecting a call from lover-boy?"  
  
"If you're talking about Logan, then yes," Max looked at her sternly. "Said something this morning about the........CIA? Or something? I dunno, the line went dead. He'll call again -"  
  
"Whoa!" Original Cindy interrupted, horrified.  
  
Max watched wide-eyed as her friend marched up to the 'new girl', who was about to shake Normal's hand, and, grabbing poor woman by the shoulders, jerked her away protectively.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, now what's going on here?" OC exclaimed loudly. "You're obviously new around here, girl," she addressed the other woman. "Otherwise you'd know never to make skin to skin contact with him." She glared accusingly Normal. "You don't know what trash can he's crawled out of."  
  
Max chuckled to herself.  
  
Then her pager suddenly erupted with loud beeps. Logan.  
  
She walked over to the pay phone and dialed his number. When his familiar voice answered, she said, "So are you going to finish what you were telling me before?"  
  
"Yes. It's important."  
  
No how-are-you's or do-you-wanna-have-dinner-Max's. Must've been really important.  
  
"There's a rumour going around that the CIA is looking for the X5s that escaped from Manticore."  
  
Max took a moment to register this. "What? Oh please, what would the CIA want with us?"  
  
"I dunno. Maybe conduct experiments, extract information from you? Take your pick, Max. The CIA may be fighting for the good of the country but you never know what they might do to a genetically engineered soldier."  
  
"So there's another government organisation after my ass. What's new?" Max drawled. "Where'd you here this rumour anyway? It's not like the CIA broadcasts their missions on Good Morning America."  
  
"This is serious, Max!" Logan berated her. "Promise me you'll be careful."  
  
"Alright, alright," Max sighed, to appease him. "Aren't I always?"  
  
"They could be more of a threat than Manticore," Logan warned. "They have more resources and more power. So just watch out." He hung up, leaving Max shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
She could understand that he was worried about Manticore being on her tail - considering she had only just escaped from the wretched place – but the CIA? Surely they had more important things to worry about, such as world espionage, than twelve escapees from a not-so-normal 'military training facility'.  
  
"Hey, Boo!" OC called. "Come here!"  
  
Max turned back to her friend, momentarily forgetting about Logan and his insane theory. "What's up?"  
  
"Meet my new friend here. Nicole," Original Cindy introduced the woman she had just rescued from Normal. "This is my best Boo, Max."  
  
Nicole smiled shyly. "Hi."  
  
Max returned the gesture. She seemed sweet – the demure wallflower. Completely harmless. Original Cindy probably thought she'd need someone to look out for her. "Nice to meet you, Nicole," she said, extending her hand. Taking a closer look at her, though, Max realised that she looked vaguely familiar.  
  
Those sad brown eyes.  
  
"You can shake her hand, girl," OC informed her, making Max realise that she was staring. "Max doesn't contract any diseases. Unlike Normal here."  
  
Nicole giggled nervously and shook Max's hand. "Nice to meet you too."  
  
"Oh, I have to go," OC cried, looking at her watch. "Met a girl at Crash last night; she was hot."  
  
"Date?" Max grinned.  
  
"You got it. Maybe she'll be the perfect girl for me, you never know. If not, she's certainly fine to look at. Can you cover for me?" OC asked.  
  
"Of course." After the many times OC had covered up for her in the past, she couldn't refuse. "Have fun."  
  
"I will!" OC ran off, waving.  
  
Max watched her retreating back, while Normal yelled, "And where do you think you're going, missy miss?"  
  
Of course, he was blatantly ignored.  
  
Max looked at her companion, who had a slightly bewildered look on her face.  
  
"Oh, um, OC likes girls more than she likes boys," she offered, by way of an explanation.  
  
"Oh." Nicole nodded in understanding.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
An awkward silence now that they were alone. Max attempted to make some conversation. "So, where are you from, Nicole?"  
  
Nicole seemed grateful for something to talk about. "Um, LA. I just moved here."  
  
"LA, huh?" Max said enviously. "I've always wanted to go there. Nice and warm."  
  
"Yeah. It's kinda cold here. No offence," she added quickly, as if she had mortally insulted her.  
  
Max blinked. "Uh – none taken. So do you need anyone to show you around? I mean, you just moved here so you probably don't know where all the streets are -"  
  
"Oh, yes, thank you so much. I was worried about how I was going to deliver those packages -"  
  
As if on cue, Normal walked by, thrusting a rather large amount of packages in their hands. "Get a move on guys, bip bip bip! I don't pay you to have a gossip session! Oh, and Max," he said in a tone that was supposed to be intimidating, but failed to be so, "If Original Cindy doesn't get her parcels delivered, tell her she's fired. For the fifth time this month!"  
  
Max rolled her eyes. An empty threat. "Come on, Nicole, I'll show you where the bikes are so you can get one for yourself."  
  
Her new friend followed her to a room filled with an assortment of bikes. "Here, pick one," Max instructed.  
  
Nicole didn't move. "I'm really sorry about this, Max. You seem like a nice person," she said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically confident. She swiftly took out a tranquilizer gun and shot her, without a moment's hesitation.  
  
Max stared at her, stunned, before she dropped to the floor.  
  
Her world faded to black.

* * *

Julia leaned against the door frame, watching Sark as he worked. "Are there any places that sell ice cream around here?" she asked suddenly.  
  
Sark looked up at her curiously. "Why? Do you want to smash the unsuspecting owner's head into a wall?"  
  
She glared at him before dismissing his insult. "No. I want ice cream."  
  
"There's some in the kitchen," he said, and returned to working.  
  
"I don't want that kind of ice cream. I want to be able to choose from all the flavours. It's more fun that way." She knew how much she sounded like a little kid, but she figured after spending all of her childhood at Manticore, she could afford to. "So........are there?"  
  
He gave it a bit of thought and admitted, "I really don't know, actually. I don't exactly have time to explore the neighbourhood."  
  
"Well, I do have time. Too much time. I'm dying of boredom here."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"Can I go out and get some ice cream?" she asked hopefully, putting on her nicest smile. She knew too well that Sark wasn't going to fall for that, but it was worth a shot.  
  
Sark gave her a look that clearly told her that he thought she was insane. "What, so you can disappear again? Certainly not."  
  
"Please?" she pleaded.  
  
"No!"  
  
"You can come with me," Julia suggested hastily. "Make sure I don't go anywhere........"  
  
"If you think that I'm going to just follow you around all day -" Sark started crossly.  
  
"Fine. I'll buy you an ice cream too, ok?" Julia compromised. Geez, talk about bargaining.  
  
"I don't -" Sark stopped as he realised what she was saying. "_You_ buy me ice cream? Do you even have money?"  
  
"Yes, I do, actually," she replied shortly.  
  
Sark frowned suspiciously. "Where did you get it?"  
  
"Hey now, Sherlock Holmes, I didn't steal it from you, ok?" She pouted, feigning hurt. Then she added quickly, "I stole it from someone else. Some guy on the street tried to hit on me, so I played along, flirted a bit, and pinched his wallet. Serves him right, stupid sleaze."  
  
He stared at her, his gaze unreadable.  
  
"Don't you look at me like that, Mr. I-Kill-For-A-Living." Of all people, Sark was getting all moral on her.  
  
To her surprise, Sark let out a laugh. "I knew there was a reason a liked you better than Sydney Bristow. You're so much more fun." He got out of his chair and started to walk off. "Come on," he called back to her when he realised she wasn't following.  
  
"Where are we going?" Julia asked, confused.  
  
"To find a bloody ice cream store, you idiot. Now hurry up."  
  
"Oh!" She raced after him, too excited about her little achievement and the thought of getting an ice cream to care that Sark had called her an idiot. As she fell into step with him, she nudged him, "So you think I'm fun, huh?"  
  
"If fun means annoying, than yes, you are."  
  
"If I'm so annoying, then why are you coming to get ice cream with me, huh?"  
  
"Because you owe me one for nearly giving me brain damage yesterday," Sark replied smoothly.  
  
Julia winced guiltily. "Yeah, I suppose I do."  
  
They made it outside, the sunshine warming their backs. Sark steered her towards where he thought the shops were, while Julia looked past the trees into the clear waters of the beach across the road.  
  
"Since when have you had such a fetish for ice cream?" Sark asked her.  
  
She shrugged. "Whenever I get out of Manticore, I make sure that I eat as much nice food as possible. If you saw the food they give us at Manticore, you'd know what I mean."  
  
"So you would've done anything for that ice cream?" he said slowly, his brow furrowed in thought.  
  
She stared at him. "OK, now what are _you _getting at, huh?"  
  
"I was just thinking how I could have used that to my advantage. I should have refused to let you get an ice cream until you gave me a lap dance -"  
  
Julia gasped, appalled, and swiped at him. "In your dreams, buddy!"  
  
Sark laughed and jumped out of reach. "It's such a shame. I passed up a perfectly good opportunity," he baited her.  
  
"Oh, why did you have to go and say that?" Julia grumbled, ignoring him. "You were actually being nice for a little while, and then you have to go and spoil it."  
  
"It's just one of my character flaws, Julia."  
  
She looked at him sharply. "I thought I told you not to call me that," she said softly, the light and happy feeling she didn't realise was there suddenly disappearing.  
  
"Sorry," Sark murmured, actually seeming sincerely apologetic. "I can't help it. I call you Julia in my head."  
  
"You do?" Everyone else only thought of her as X5-475. She hadn't been Julia for a long time. Until now. "You know what? It's OK. You can call me Julia if you like. I – I don't mind," she said hesitantly.  
  
Looking surprised but pleased, he said simply, "OK." He seemed to know what it took for her to say that to him. Maybe it was stupid, but it was a big deal for her.  
  
Julia sighed heavily and tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering if she had done the right thing. Had she made herself more vulnerable?  
  
"Why didn't you like being called Julia?" Sark asked suddenly.  
  
She faltered, not really sure if she wanted to tell him. "It's – it's nothing earth shattering, or anything." She paused. "My brothers and sisters gave me the name Julia. They betrayed me. And when people call me that, it just reminds me of them, that's all. It's just –" She looked at the floor, suddenly angry at herself. She shouldn't have told him. "This is stupid."  
  
"It's not stupid," Sark interrupted fiercely. "It's not."  
  
At that moment Julia Thorne saw a very different side to the usually cold- hearted Mr. Sark. Yes, he was intriguing, alright.  
  
Julia nodded.  
  
"Come on, I can see an ice cream store right over there," Sark said gently. "What flavour do you want?"  
  
"Coffee."  
  
"Let's go get some, then."

* * *

**A/N:** Not too much action in this chapter; mostly Sark and Julia fluff ( if you can call it that, I'm not sure what else to call it ) – but I hope you liked it. Please review and let me know what you think. And thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, especially those who review every chapter. I like to see which readers haven't gotten bored of the story and have kept reading. : ) Thanks so much! 


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** Julia will seem a bit out of character at first. But there's an explanation for it, I promise. Just don't think I've gone mad. : )  
  
**Chapter Seven**  
  
He had no idea where the sudden need to reassure her had come from. But Sark felt uncharacteristically protective of Julia as they walked out of the ice cream store with their purchases in hand.  
  
She seemed fine though, showing no signs of the lost and vulnerable woman she had been only moments before. The woman that had somehow managed to make him mutate into a kind, altruistic fool. It had been slightly unsettling, and he didn't intend on it ever happening again. He wasn't one for deep and meaningful conversations.  
  
Honestly, Julia was going to be the end of him.  
  
"It's really hot here," Julia muttered irritably, fanning herself with her hand.  
  
"It's the middle of winter and you're eating ice cream," Sark pointed out incredulously. "How can you possibly be hot?"  
  
"I don't know!" she said, shrugging off her jacket whilst still holding her ice cream.  
  
Sark started to think about how she would most likely catch pneumonia as a result of the bitterly cold air around them, until he caught sight of the smooth expanse of skin on Julia's bare shoulders and arms which had been previously covered up by her jacket.  
  
He quickly looked away before his thoughts were tempted to go where they shouldn't.  
  
Julia made a small noise of satisfaction, stating, "That's a bit better."  
  
"Aren't you cold?" Sark said, frowning.  
  
"No. It's just kinda warm......"  
  
She did look a little flushed.  
  
"Perhaps you're coming down with something," Sark offered. Yeah, like pneumonia.  
  
"No, no, I'm fine," she replied dismissively.  
  
Well, _he _wasn't. Sark realised that he was starting to notice things about Julia that he hadn't noticed before. Like the perfect curves of her hips and the smooth, sexy way they moved while she walked. Not that he hadn't seen how attractive she was before - any man would admit that she was achingly beautiful. But today it was different; there seemed to be something about her that was simply oozing seductiveness.  
  
Or maybe there was just something in the ice cream that was making him insane. He shouldn't have been thinking such things about a woman he was supposed to be holding captive. And he should have been able to keep his eyes off her, but so far he had been unsuccessful.  
  
_Well, there's nothing wrong with being attracted to her, is there,_ Sark argued with himself.  
  
He really was insane.  
  
"You know, if I didn't know better, Sark," Julia began mock-thoughtfully, "I'd think you were actually worried about me."  
  
"Well it's a good thing that you do know better," Sark retorted. "Because you're the last thing I'd worry about."  
  
_Liar._  
  
Julia arched an eyebrow. "Well we all know that's not true."  
  
His gaze was challenging. "Oh really?"  
  
"Yes. You want me. Admit it." She advanced on him, poking him in the chest.  
  
Sark, although slightly shocked at her rather unusual behaviour, looked back at her calmly. "I don't want you any more than I want to get married to a donkey. And for the record, I really do not want to get married to a donkey."  
  
_What a load of crap. Of course you want her._  
  
She backed off. And just when Sark was about to rub his victory in, she said, "If that's the case, then stop ogling me like it's the first time you've seen a naked woman. You've been doing it for the last fifteen minutes and it's really starting to piss me off." She smiled devilishly before turning on her heel and walking off, leaving him stunned.  
  
_Shit._  
  
He recovered and jogged to catch up with her. Sassy, sharp-tongued bitch; that's what Julia was. And it only made him want her more.  
  
"Now that was just mean," Sark called out to her accusingly, pretending to be upset. "And here I was thinking you were flirting with me. I'm crushed."  
  
"What are you whining about?" Julia called back, annoyed. She waited for him to catch up and positioned herself dangerously close to him.  
  
Sark swallowed thickly, feeling the warmth radiate from her body. "Uh – nothing, really -"  
  
"Good. Because I _was_ flirting with you," she whispered, teasingly kissing the corner of his mouth.  
  
Sark certainly wouldn't have objected if the kiss had lasted a bit longer, but she jerked away so quickly that he didn't have time to register what had just happened.  
  
"Oh my gosh!" she gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. "Did I – I just – ew!" Julia shoved him away from her.  
  
Sark glared at her, partly angry and partly disappointed. "I wasn't aware that I was that repulsive," he said hotly. What was wrong with this woman?  
  
She didn't answer. Instead, a look of dread came over her face. "Ohhh, no."  
  
"What?" Sark demanded.  
  
Julia shook her head ruefully, looking slightly panicked. "Nothing. Come on, let's get out of here." Not waiting for an answer, she practically ran towards the direction of his house.  
  
Sark stared after her in utter confusion.  
  
It was going to be a long day.

* * *

_A masked man leaned over her, his smile menacing.  
  
"We know you tried to change your identity; build up a new life for yourself as Sydney Bristow. But you can never be normal. You can never escape from us, no matter how hard you try. You were made to by a spy, Julia Thorne."  
_  
Sydney's eyes flew open. Vaughn sat across from her in the plane, reading over some files.  
  
She stretched, remembering that they had successfully captured the X5, who had her hands and feet bound to a chair a few rows in front of them, just in case she suddenly woke up from the extremely strong tranquilizer that Sydney had shot her with.  
  
Two days after he had used the computer to age the mug shots of the X5s, Marshall, being the genius that he was, had found one of them in Seattle.  
  
Her name was Max Guevera, and she matched the profile of X5-452, a.k.a Max. Sydney had found it strange that X5-452 hadn't changed her alias, nor had she made any attempt to cover up her tracks. However, it made their job so much easier and they were one step closer to their target.  
  
Sydney and Vaughn had been ordered to take her into custody under the assumption that she was still part of the Covenant. It didn't matter that she'd been free for over thirteen years.  
  
So Sydney had become Nicole, a new employee at the X5s workplace - Jam Pony.  
  
The X5 had completely fallen for the shy-and-defenseless-little-girl-in- need-of-protection act. Which, in a way, made Sydney feel bad – it meant that the X5 could have genuinely been a nice person.  
  
She had been surprised at how normal the X5 had seemed, and how well she fitted in with the rest of the, well, normal people. No one would have ever suspected that she was a genetically engineered super soldier bred to kill. Which was what made the X5 so good, Sydney supposed. But did she really become a normal person or was she just a very good actress? Was she really still a cold-blooded Covenant agent at heart?  
  
"Syd, we're here," Vaughn said, nudging her.  
  
Sydney hadn't even realised that the plane had landed back in LA. "Oh, right." She got up, just as a few CIA Operatives were picking up the still unconscious X5.  
  
"We can start interrogating her as soon as she wakes up," Vaughn told her.  
  
Sydney nodded, staring at him for a moment. Trying to read what was going on in his mind.  
  
He looked slightly uncomfortable. "What?"  
  
"Vaughn -" she started uncertainly, unable to put her concern into words.  
  
Sydney had noticed that he had been acting very strangely since they'd left Manticore – avoiding her, mostly, but when they were around each other he'd give her guilty looks, like he was keeping something from her. In fact, Weiss, Marshall and Dixon were also acting in a similar fashion. Marshall had been the most obvious about it by spilling drinks, knocking over things and jumping nervously whenever she spoke to him. The only person not acting as if she had leprosy was her dad.  
  
What is going on? That's what she wanted to say.  
  
"Nothing," she sighed, telling herself to speak to him about it later – even though she had a feeling that he would deny that anything was wrong.

* * *

Max lifted her head groggily, blurry shapes dancing before her half open eyes. She groaned and tried to move, but then realised that she was hand- cuffed to a rather solid looking chair.  
  
Great. She'd been captured. By who, she did not know, but she had a feeling that it wasn't Ames White that was responsible this time.  
  
Was that a good or bad thing?  
  
As her head finally started to clear, the door to the small, dark room opened. Two people walked in – the woman that had shot her and an unfamiliar man.  
  
"Ah, my dear friend Nicole. I can't believe you would do this to me," Max drawled, plastering a hurt expression on her face. "And just when we were getting along so well."  
  
"Don't take it too personally," 'Nicole' said, sitting down opposite her. The man took a seat next to the woman like some sort of over protective body guard.  
  
A million questions formed in Max's head, but she refrained from asking. She knew that she was the disadvantaged one here – she had no idea where she was or what was going to happen to her – but she didn't want to give these bastards the satisfaction of knowing that they were in control.  
  
Max preferred being the controller, not the controllee ( if that was even a word ), and that was the way it was going to be right here, right now.  
  
"I can tell that you don't have many friends," Max commented lightly. "If this is the way you treat them. Meet friend, shoot friend, kidnap said friend and tie them to a chair -"  
  
"Look," the woman interrupted curtly. "We're not here for a chat. I'm sure we've both got more important places to be, so let's get this over and done with, alright?"  
  
"Get what over and done with?" Max said, shifting in her chair.  
  
"We need to ask you a few questions," the man spoke up for the first time.  
  
"I'm not telling you anything until you tell me who you are and what the hell's going on," she snapped in reply.  
  
The pair looked at each other questioningly, as if silently trying to ask the other whether or not they should disclose such information.  
  
"Sydney -" the man warned, as if he already knew what she was going to do.  
  
Sydney. So that's what her name was.  
  
"Vaughn." Sydney gave him a pointed look before saying, "We're CIA. We've been trying to track you down. It seems that you might have some important information that we need."  
  
Max managed to keep a stoic expression on her face despite the fact that she was panicking ever so slightly. The CIA. Logan had been right. Maybe they were interested in Manticore.  
  
How was she ever going to get out of this one?  
  
"The CIA," Max echoed. "Huh. So what did I do? I don't suppose delivering packages is considered treason, is it?"  
  
"You didn't do anything. At least as far as the CIA is aware. But being part of the Covenant would be considered treason in our books," Vaughn told her.  
  
"The what?" Max blurted out, genuinely confused. She had expected them to bombard her with questions about Manticore, and she had planned on acting innocent until she thought of another plan – but the Covenant? Uh, sorry, no idea what that was.  
  
Sydney and Vaughn didn't seem to buy it, though. Great. Just when she really didn't have any idea what they were talking about.  
  
"Don't play dumb," Sydney said in a deadly tone of voice. "We know you're an X5, Max. One of the twelve that escaped from Manticore thirteen years ago."  
  
Now they were on the right track, but that wasn't, under any circumstances, a good thing. How did they find out that she was an X5? Wasn't Manticore supposed to be a top secret organisation?  
  
Max raised her eyebrows. "Are you guys on drugs?"  
  
"What?" Sydney and Vaughn said together.  
  
"Manticore? The Covenant? X5?" Max asked innocently. "You really need to tell me what you're talking about. Or at least make up your minds about what you're trying to accuse me of."  
  
"You can't deny it. We saw you at Manticore with our own eyes," Vaughn pressed, as if that would make her talk.  
  
Max pretended to look completely clueless. "I'm telling you, you've got the wrong girl."  
  
"Vaughn, Bristow!" a voice barked over the intercom. "We need you back here."  
  
Sydney fixed Max with a look told her that she wasn't going to get off this easily in the future. "We're not finished here."  
  
"Oh, ya think?" Max shot back sarcastically. She'd already decided that she much preferred the shy Nicole over the determined Sydney. Sydney was getting on her nerves. Despite that, though, she could tell that Sydney was a very good agent - judging by the way she had tricked her, and a strong woman. Max found herself admiring her, and, again it somehow reminded her of someone she once knew.  
  
She was about to dismiss the feeling when suddenly it clicked. She knew who that Sydney reminded her of.  
  
Before she could stop herself, Max whispered, "Julia?"

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys, hope you like it. Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming! 


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** Thank you for all of your reviews, they have been very encouraging! You guys are great. : )   
  
**Chapter Eight**  
  
Julia cursed Manticore, the Covenant, Sark, and every other person she could think of, no matter how irrelevant they were to her current situation.   
  
Her current situation being that she was in heat.   
  
Thankfully, she'd gotten home before Sark had and hastily locked herself in the first room she could gain access to. She hoped that the door was sturdy so that when Sark undoubtedly came looking for her, she wouldn't blow the door straight of its hinges to get to him.   
  
Speaking of Sark, Julia wondered what might have been going through his head at that moment. He was probably thinking that she belonged in some kind of mental institution. And maybe he would be correct, considering how she had practically threw herself at him, shamelessly flirting and coming onto him like overly enthusiastic sixteen year old girl with a crush.   
  
And she'd _kissed_ him. Although she'd hardly call it a kiss. She imagined that a proper kiss with Sark would last a lot longer, involve a lot more tongue action and he certainly wouldn't have any clothes on..........  
  
Whoa. Julia couldn't get rid of that thought fast enough. If Sark ever found out that she'd been fantasizing about kissing him she'd never live it down.   
  
Julia decided that she needed an cold shower. Unfortunately, though, there wasn't one connected to this room, and the closest available shower she could think of was upstairs.  
  
Great.  
  
Praying that Sark wasn't back yet, she unlocked the door and slipped out of the room.   
  
And walked straight into Sark's chest.  
  
Julia slowly ran her eyes over his body, desire consuming every inch of her.   
  
Oh wow, he looked so good.   
  
"Julia, are you quite alright?" Sark asked, his British accent making him sound even more desirable.  
  
"Yep, just fine," Julia replied hurriedly, trying to distance herself from him as quickly as possible before she shoved him up against the wall and devoured him.   
  
Why did she have to be in heat? Why now? Why here?  
  
Sark looked at her curiously. "Are you going to make a habit of running off as if I have some sort of contagious disease? Because I'm afraid it's rather damaging on my self-esteem -"  
  
Under normal circumstances she would have made some smart remark about his already over-inflated ego, but instead she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him to her, crushing her mouth against his. Any sort of will power had left her completely – the only thought in her mind was how good it felt to have Sark's tongue in her mouth.   
  
If Sark was surprised – or horrified, for that matter – he didn't show it. He responded almost immediately, his arms tightening around her as her body molded perfectly into his.   
  
Neither of them complained as they stumbled towards the bedroom in a midst of hungry kisses, leaving a trail of abandoned clothing on the floor.

* * *

"Julia?"  
  
Sydney froze and turned around slowly. "What did you just call me?"   
  
Regret flicked across Max's features, as if she had let slip something that she shouldn't have. "Nothing," she said immediately.   
  
Sydney wasn't going to accept that as an answer. Max had called her Julia, she was sure of it. "No. You called me Julia. I want to know why."   
  
"Agent Bristow," one of the agents called her. "We need to go."  
  
"Don't worry about me," she said, waving him away. "I'll come later."  
  
"Great," Max muttered under her breath. "We get to spend some quality time together. Just me and Sydney. Yay."  
  
Turning back to Max, she said, "You haven't answered my question."  
  
"Well, technically, you didn't actually ask me a question. So I can't answer you."  
  
Sydney wasn't in the mood for Max's smart-ass comments anymore. Not only did this woman have the potential to help the CIA take down the Covenant, but now she also may have had important information about Sydney's missing two years. The alias Julia Thorne was the only connection she had, and Max had used it.   
  
She hadn't been able to get much out of Simon Walker before he had been killed, but she wasn't going to make the same mistake with Max.   
  
Sydney sat down in front of Max, not afraid to let her desperation show. "Max," she began, the authority in her voice dissipating. "Please. I'm asking you nicely, not as a CIA agent, but as a person who really needs your help. I need to know why you called me Julia."  
  
"I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this," Max stated incredulously. "It's only a name."  
  
"It's more than just a name to me," Sydney pressed.   
  
Max stared at her. "You're pretty whack, you know that, right?"  
  
Not having any idea what she was talking about, Sydney chose not to respond.   
  
Max groaned, agitated. "Look, this is just a misunderstanding, that's all. You kinda look a lot like someone I knew. A lot," she explained.   
  
"Care to elaborate?" Sydney asked, feeling a small glimmer of hope.   
  
"Nope."  
  
Her eyes were pleading. "Max, what have you got to lose?"  
  
Max choked in surprise. "Are you kidding me? I have plenty to lose. I'm in CIA custody, for crying out loud. But you're not going to fool me, Sydney. You've got something up your sleeve, I know it. I'm not going to fall for some stupid sob-story about you needing my help and I'm certainly not going to tell you anything," she said fiercely.   
  
Sydney was slightly taken aback at first. Then she sighed. She had a feeling that she wasn't going to get through to her this way, no matter how hard she tried.   
  
The truth. That's what she had to tell her. Max clearly wasn't stupid, and Sydney was certain that she wasn't a bad person either. Cryptic mind games weren't going to do any good. Mutual trust had to be established - all she needed to do was convince Max that they were on the same side.   
  
So she proceeded to explain to Max the details of her missing two years and how she knew that during that time, she had become Julia Thorne. Max looked at little skeptical at first. Sydney didn't blame her. To a normal person, the whole story would sound completely ludicrous.   
  
But Max wasn't a normal person.  
  
"I know that the Covenant is responsible for my disappearance. And maybe you know that the Covenant is evil, or maybe you don't, but the fact that you managed to get out of Manticore tells me that you're a good person and that you're not like them."  
  
"What are you trying to say?" she asked, trying to seem defiant, but instead sounding curious.  
  
"The CIA wants to destroy the Covenant," Sydney told her. "And I want to know why they took two years of my life. And to tell you the truth you're the only lead we have, Max." She took a deep breath, hoping that she was saying this right. "The Covenant is evil. They are the ones that fund Manticore, they are the reason children are being brought up as spies when they should be playing in the park. If you could give us some information on the Covenant, you could help us put an end to it all. The Covenant and Manticore will cease to exist, and they won't be able to hurt you or anyone else."   
  
The conflict was starting to show in Max's eyes. "Like I said before, maybe you've got the wrong girl. How do you know that I even have this information? You could be wasting you're breath."  
  
Sydney knew that she'd almost hit a home run - just one more base to go. "I don't want a confession. I already know that you're X5-452, and there's nothing you can do to convince us otherwise. I saw you with my own eyes, when Director Renfro was showing you and X5-494 off at Manticore."  
  
That seemed to ring a bell with Max. Her eyes widened slightly in realization, though she remained silent.  
  
"As soon as you co-operate, you'll be free to go," Sydney finished.   
  
After a moment she let out a harsh laugh. "You've got a transgenic freak in your hands, and you don't want to cut me up? You can't honestly think that I actually believe that you'll let me go."  
  
"The X5s aren't exactly high on the list of our priorities at the moment. The Covenant is more of a threat and we're focusing on that. So we're not going to hurt you, you have my word. And you _will_ be allowed to go. It's not as if we have any other reason to keep you here," Sydney smiled. "And the CIA are the good guys, remember?"  
  
"Supposedly," came the quick reply.   
  
Sydney wasn't quite sure what Max meant by that, but she decided not to question it.   
  
"So do we have a deal?" She was almost certain that she was going to get the answer she wanted.   
  
Max thought for a moment, an intense debate taking place in her mind. "Alright. But I can't promise you anything." Then she added as an after-thought, "You are so damn persistent. It's really annoying."  
  
Sydney hid a triumphant grin.   
  
These were the times when she actually thanked her mother for giving her such a stubborn personality.

* * *

Sark opened his eyes lazily, taking a moment to register the unfamiliar environment that he was in. He glanced at the clock – 6:30am – and his gaze fell on the scattering of clothing on the floor.   
  
The memory of last night's, erm, activities, hit him hard. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened or why it had happened, but he did discover something – Julia was a minx.   
  
Sark had, once or twice, suspected that she would be fantastic in bed, but he had never in his wildest dreams thought that she would actually show him exactly how fantastic. He hadn't expected her to pounce on him and rip his clothes off.   
  
Not that he was complaining, or anything.   
  
Sark rolled over, expecting to see Julia lying next to him, only to find that the other side of the bed was empty.   
  
It took a lot more effort for him to get out of bed than it usually did – Julia had left him rather exhausted – but he somehow managed to drag himself up. After locating the whereabouts of his clothes, he picked them up, got dressed and went looking for Julia.   
  
He found her sitting out on the verandah, the chilly morning breeze blowing silky tendrils of hair away from her face. She looked particularly delectable with only an oversized shirt on.   
  
One of _his_ shirts.   
  
"Well, this is an unusual change," Sark commented. "I'm usually the one who disappears before my bed-partner wakes up."  
  
Julia glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to the view of the beach. "Hi."  
  
She seemed emotionally void. Somewhat different from the insatiable little minx he had been with only a few hours ago.   
  
"Sorry about last night," she said quietly.   
  
"You're sorry?" Sark echoed.   
  
"Yeah. Something weird just came over me. It's hard to explain. But it won't happen again," Julia promised.   
  
To say he was disappointed was an understatement. "I'm not sorry about last night," Sark stated truthfully. "I enjoyed it. Immensely."  
  
"Well at least someone did," Julia snapped suddenly, suggesting that the feeling wasn't mutual.   
  
Ouch.   
  
No man ever wanted to hear that they weren't good in bed, indirectly or not.   
  
"That's not the impression you gave me when we were in bed together," Sark retaliated, his ego getting the better of him.   
  
"Like I said, something weird came over me," she muttered darkly.   
  
"Would you kindly explain that to me?"   
  
Julia ran a hand through her hair uneasily, not looking at him. "You don't want to know."  
  
"Oh yes, I do," Sark objected, taking a seat next to her. "Please, enlighten me."   
  
She looked extremely reluctant.   
  
"Well," she said slowly, carefully contemplating what she was going to say. "I have.........cat DNA in me, which means that I acquire some of the abilities that a cat has – you know, I can jump very high and I can see in the dark, but..........it also means that a few times a year I'll go into heat. Just like a cat. And that's what happened yesterday. I - I went into heat, and usually I just pounce on the first guy I get my hands on. This time it just.........happened to be you."  
  
Sark did everything he could to prevent his jaw from dropping. Now this had to be one of the strangest things he had ever heard. A human? In heat? "You can't be serious."  
  
Julia shrugged, embarrassed.   
  
"Well, judging by your performance last night I have to say that it must be a man's dream come true, to come across an X5 in heat," he said, without thinking.   
  
There was a moment where the tiniest bit of hurt wavered across her face. And then it disappeared and was replaced by anger.  
  
"Oh _really_," Julia snarled. "Well I don't suppose you'd think about how_ I_ feel, not being able to control my own body and then waking up next to a man who only thinks of me as a good fuck!"  
  
She was yelling by the time she'd finished, tears springing to her eyes.   
  
Then she bolted, and Sark assumed she was getting as far away from him as possible.   
  
He didn't blame her. 


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N: **OK, this chapter is really short – less than five pages. I was going to make it longer and a bit more eventful but that would mean that I wouldn't be able to update for a few more weeks cos school's been a real pain in the ass with final exams and assignments and stuff. I've already kept you waiting long enough – I'm so sorry! – so I'll give you this half of chapter nine for now. I'll post the rest up as chapter ten later. Again, I'm really sorry.

**Chapter Nine**

What was that nagging feeling in the pit of Sark's stomach? It had been residing there ever since Julia had stormed off about an hour ago, and no amount of work that he tried to involve himself in would make it go away. It was starting to worry him, as he'd begun to think that it had something to do with his rather idiotic comment about Julia being in heat.

He knew that he had hurt her feelings – heck, he'd done everything but call her a slut to her face – but usually an incident such as this wouldn't faze him. Sark didn't care about how a woman felt when he slept with them, just as long as he got what he wanted. Which he always did, ten times out of ten.

Something had changed, though. At least in regard to Julia, it had. Sark realised that the feeling in his stomach was something along the lines of guilt or regret – an emotion he had never experienced before in his entire life. Which would probably explain why he had no idea how to deal with it.

What was he supposed to do, tell her that she meant more to him that just a one night stand? Tell her that he was sorry?

Sark almost laughed at himself. 'Sorry' wasn't on his vocabulary list. He wasn't even sure if he knew the meaning of the word. Sure, he cared about what Julia thought of him – which at the moment he assumed was something along the lines of 'arrogant dickhead' – but did he care enough to apologise to her? He saw it as a sign of weakness that simply was not necessary. And besides, he had a reputation of being unfeeling to uphold.

Sark shook his head, sighing. This was one of the many reasons why he never allowed himself to have a close relationship with anyone. Although he and Julia were hardly close, or even friends, he'd already let her in further than he'd let anyone else in before. He admitted that that had been a mistake. Because look what was happening to Mr. Sark now.

The phone rang shrilly, and Sark gratefully left his thoughts behind. He answered with a curt "Yes?"

A voice on the other end said simply, without bothering to introduce themselves, "Tell 475 that her mission will start tomorrow night. 12:30am."

Her mission was starting already? That would mean she would have to leave, obviously. Wait, what was he saying?! He wasn't supposed to give a damn if she left or not.

Sark muttered, "Right."

"And Mr. Sark?"

"Yes?" he said again.

"Don't get too attached."

He blinked in surprise. "May I ask what that is supposed to mean?"

"You and the X5 seem to get along very well," the person stated matter-of-factly, ignoring his question.

Sark finally caught on. How the Covenant had managed to discover this, he didn't know – perhaps they'd seen him and Julia when they'd gone to get ice cream – but he certainly knew that he wasn't getting 'attached' to her.

"She is living in my house. I thought it would be rather rude to ignore her the entire time," Sark snapped.

"But there are limits. This is only a temporary arrangement. You aren't supposed to enjoy your time together."

The memory of Julia's soft skin underneath his fingers hit him hard. OK, there was one thing he was definitely attached to. "We occasionally spend time together," he said testily. "That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm about to declare my undying love for her."

At least that was the truth.

"Let's hope that's the case, Mr. Sark." And they hung up.

Sark blinked, listening to the tone for a few seconds before hanging up himself.

_Was _he getting attached to Julia? It wasn't possible. Was it?

Well, it didn't matter. He had to put an end to it now, before it got out of hand.

Maybe pissing Julia off wasn't such a bad thing. It could work to his benefit.

* * *

Julia stepped out of the shower, tying her damp hair into a knot on top of her head. She stared at her reflection critically. At least she looked somewhat presentable now – maybe she could keep whatever scrap of dignity she had left.

She'd made a complete fool of herself. She knew that already. That's what always happened when she went into heat and threw herself at a man whom she knew wouldn't give her a second thought the following morning. The only thing that comforted her was the fact that she'd never see that man again, and she could forget about the whole incident.

But this time, Julia would undoubtedly have to face him. She had no idea how long she would be staying with Sark, and she dreaded having to be constantly reminded of how she'd embarrassed herself.

Julia had hoped, though, that Sark might have at least the tiniest bit of consideration for her feelings. She thought that maybe he wouldn't rub in the fact that she'd be a great toy for someone who wanted to get laid, or shatter her self-respect into tiny fragments and scatter it on the floor.

But he did.

Stupid, arrogant dickhead.

Suddenly Julia stopped.

She rolled her eyes and started to get dressed, telling herself to get over it and to stop being such a whining idiot. Sark was just being, well, Sark. He couldn't help being a prick – that's just the way he was – and Julia promptly decided that she wouldn't hold it against him. It didn't matter that the closest thing she had to a friend now only thought of her as a cheap whore.

Great.

Julia walked out of the bathroom, suddenly depressed.

She found an extremely bored looking Sark sitting on the bed. He glanced up when the door opened. "Well it's about time -" he stopped himself. The look on his face became neutral, almost indifferent, replacing the originally friendly expression.

Weird.

Julia looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish speaking.

"I got a call from the Covenant. Your mission will be starting soon," Sark informed her.

Back to work again. "Oh, OK." Just when she was starting to like it here, doing nothing, she had to leave.

Sark got up to walk out, like that was all he had to say to her. This surprised Julia – usually he'd stay and exchange some good-natured banter, or pick a fight with her, and least.

"Sark?" she called.

He looked at her, hands in his pockets.

"What's wrong?" Julia asked.

"Nothing," he replied shortly.

"Something's bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me."

It suddenly occurred to her. After hesitating, she said, "If it's got anything to do with what we did last night and me yelling at you before, you don't need to worry about it. I'm over it, OK?"

"I'm not worried about that," Sark retorted dismissively.

"Then what's the matter with you?" Julia persisted. "You're not like........yourself."

"How would you know if I'm not myself?" Sark demanded. "I doubt very much that you know me at all. So stop asking questions about my welfare."

He left very quickly after that.

Julia sank into the mattress on the bed, her eyebrows raised. Did she do something to wrong?

Hey – wasn't she supposed to be pissed off at him, not the other way around?

She flopped back onto the bed. "Men!" she muttered to herself and shook her head incredulously.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope that wasn't too boring! I know this chapter might seem like a whole lot of meaningless ramble, but it does have a purpose. So yeah, just to let you know. I ( hopefully ) know where this story's heading.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

"So what can you tell me?" Sydney asked Max, trying to control her eagerness.

"What am I supposed to be telling you again?" Max frowned, dawdling. Sydney could tell that she was still reluctant to tell her, a complete stranger, anything, despite the incredibly convincing argument that Sydney had offered her a few minutes ago. "I've forgotten the question."

Sydney gave her a pointed look. Max knew perfectly what the question was. But she repeated the question anyway – "Why did you call me Julia?"

Such a simple question. Not such a simple explanation, though.

Max sighed, knowing she'd have to spit it out sooner or later. "Back at Manticore, all the X5s were placed in groups called units. All the X5s in my unit were really close, even though we weren't supposed to be. We kinda......looked after each other, you know? Cos there was no one else to look after us."

Sydney nodded in understanding and encouraged her to keep going.

"We thought of each other as family. They were my brothers and sisters, even though we weren't blood related or anything. We even gave each other names," Max told her, only now getting to the important part. "One of the X5s – one of my sisters – we named her Julia. I can't really remember why." She paused. "Well, anyway, you look a lot like her. I mean, obviously you look a lot older than she was back then, but -"

"But........" Sydney prompted.

"You look like an older version of her," Max whispered, almost sadly. "I swear, I honestly thought you _were_ her, all grown up and everything. It really freaked me out, cos I haven't seen her since we were nine years old."

"So you're saying that I look just like her?" Sydney said in a hushed voice.

"I – I don't know. Like I said, I haven't seen her since I was nine. But there's certainly a resemblance. OK, maybe more than a resemblance," Max quickly corrected herself.

"So......where is she now?" Sydney asked. "Is there any way we can find her?"

Max shrugged. "She's still at Manticore, most likely," she said, lowering her eyes as if remembering something she didn't want to. "She didn't escape with us."

"Did you see her while you were at Manticore?"

"No," Max replied, shaking her head. "I spent half the time with X5s I didn't even know. The other half I spent cooped up in a cell with an annoying, arrogant dickhead."

The words "annoying arrogant dickhead" made Sydney think of a certain Covenant operative called Mr. Sark. But she didn't question who Max's "annoying arrogant dickhead" was.

Sydney sighed, unsure if she was even heading in the right direction. Maybe she was pursuing a lead that had absolutely nothing to with her missing two years or the Covenant. But there was definitely something unusual about Julia, who supposedly looked just like her, and furthermore, had the same name that Sydney had used when she had disappeared.

Coincidence?

She had no idea.

Suddenly, Sydney remembered the video footage of the X5s that she and Vaughn had downloaded from Manticore.

"Wait one second," she told Max hastily, and flew out the door. Ten minutes later she returned with a laptop. Max observed quietly as Sydney set it in front of her, turned it on and started playing the video footage.

Max watched it disinterestedly for a few seconds, and then realised, "Hey, that's us!"

"Yes," Sydney confirmed, and then paused it at the spot she wanted. "Is that Julia there?"

Max leaned forward in her chair, looking closely at the little girl Sydney was pointing to.

Sydney found that she was actually nervous. What if that X5, who undeniably looked exactly like Sydney when she was a child, was Julia? What would she do then?

"Yep, that's Julia," Max stated confidently.

Sydney swallowed uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive........is that what you looked like when you were a kid?" Max inquired, reading Sydney's mind.

She nodded and sank into the nearest chair, tucking her dark hair behind her ear absentmindedly. So maybe she wasn't going insane when she had noticed that little detail a few days ago.

"I don't get how this can help you find out about where you've been for the last two years," Max said matter-of-factly. "I mean, sure, there's definitely something funky going on here, but other than that.......I don't think Julia's got anything to do with what happened to you."

"I don't know if it can help me either," Sydney told her, feeling slightly bewildered. "I have no idea what any of this means, or why there's an X5 out there who looks exactly like me."

Silence ensued for a few moments as both women collected their thoughts.

Finally, Max started to say something, but stopped.

Sydney regarded her curiously. "What is it?"

"Look, I don't know if this is right or not, so don't jump to conclusions." Max began tentatively. "But if it helps any, you might want to know that Manticore is big on cloning. They have a DNA lab, where they keep all the DNA of the X5s. They use it to clone more mignons for them to experiment on," she said bitterly. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure that all the X7s are clones of us, except they're younger versions of us."

"So you're saying that Julia might be a clone of me, or vice versa?" Sydney whispered, her eyes wide with dismay. She wanted to tell herself that this was impossible, but with the all the crazy things that she'd seen in her lifetime, she knew that she couldn't rule out the possibility completely.

Max looked at her almost sympathetically. "I could be wrong," she said consolingly.

She drew in a composing breath. "Maybe. But it's a very logical explanation."

Sydney stood up, determined, as she always was, to get to the bottom of this. As weird as all of this was, she had to keep her head in the game. "Look, I'm going to talk to the other CIA agents and tell them what you've told me."

"Does that mean I can go?" Max asked hopefully.

She wasn't being treated badly here at the CIA, but Sydney suspected that Max was still eager to get back home.

Sydney shook her head apologetically. "I'm afraid not. We still need to keep you here for more questioning." At Max's indignant look, she added quickly, "I promise I'll keep my end of the bargain. It won't take long, OK? I'll organize for you to stay somewhere more comfortable while you're waiting."

Max slumped into her seat, seeming to know that she wasn't getting out of here anytime soon. "Yeah, whatever," she muttered indifferently.

"Max?"

"What?"

Sydney offered her a quick but genuine smile. "Thanks for your help."

Max hesitated, before returning the gesture.

Behind the bad-ass attitude, Max was a good person. Sydney had no doubt about that.

* * *

Sark stared at the file on his computer, unsure of what he would find once he opened it. They were the files on Julia that he and Lauren had taken from the Manticore files. He had been eager to find out what was on those files – mostly because he wanted to discover more about the enigmatic X5 that was currently residing in his house – but only now had he found the time to look at them.

He finally clicked on the file, and video footage appeared on the screen.

A small, cold room with a tiny girl standing nervously in the middle.

Sark took a closer look and realised that the little girl was Julia – she couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. The fact that she was practically bald almost threw him off, but those dark, sorrowful eyes were most definitely hers.

Sark watched curiously as a door to the room opened, and in walked a woman he knew all too well.

Irina Derevko.

Yes, it was definitely her. Younger, and still possessing that mysterious beauty and charm that she had almost twenty years later.

Julia seemed to regard her with trepidation and didn't make a move towards her. Irina, however, looked delighted to see Julia and immediately enveloped the small X5 with a hug. She let go after a few moments and seemed to regain her composure as she bend down to Julia's eye level.

That was when Sark cursed the fact that the footage had no audio. He couldn't hear a thing as Irina talked to Julia – no doubt working her charm on her - and the video was too shadowy to read their lips. So Sark compromised by looking at the expression on Julia's face.

Only there was no expression.

Julia's face was a blank canvas – cold and unemotional. Sark wasn't even sure if she was registering what Irina was saying to her. What he saw on Irina's face, though, was the opposite. He had never seen such warmth and love in his previous employer's eyes before.

No, actually, he had. That warmth and love could only be seen in Irina's eyes when she looked at her daughter, Sydney.

Sark continued watching.

A few more minutes of talking suddenly seemed to spark Julia's anger. For the first time, she showed some emotion as pushed Irina away and started yelling something at her.

Sark couldn't ignore the hurt that flashed in Irina's eyes for the briefest of moments.

Unfortunately he couldn't see what happened next. As he heard the door to his bedroom creep open slightly, he hastily shut down the video and resumed normal work.

"Sark?" Julia hesitantly poked her head into his room.

Sark glanced up, looking like he had been completely engrossed with his work when he was actually thinking about what connection Irina had to Julia. Surely Julia knew who Irina Derevko was – Sydney's mother, ex-KGB agent and The Man - after all, she had been briefed on all aspects of Sydney's life. And surely she'd know the answer to his question.

Before he was tempted to ask, he blurted out, "What is it, Julia?"

Sark sincerely hoped that she hadn't come in for a chat. He had been trying to distance himself from her after his conversation with the Covenant agent; trying to treat her just like any other captive of his, with coldness and indifference.

Why?

He was afraid that he was starting to actually starting to care for her. And he was afraid that he'd miss her when she left.

Sleeping with her – which was what he had done - was fine. Whatever. But talking with her, laughing with her, caring about her, missing her – out of the question.

It had to stop.

Better to prevent the disaster from happening right now than to pick up the pieces later on.

And their unusual relationship would surely end in disaster.

"Sark, are you listening?" Julia interrupted him.

Sark blinked. "What?"

"I'm going now. They're........waiting outside for me," Julia said quietly. "I just came to say bye."

"Oh. Right." Sark muttered, trying to ignore the disappointment in his gut. What was wrong with him? He should've been glad that he wasn't playing babysitter for the Covenant anymore. He could move on to more important things. "Well, bye then," he said gruffly.

His air of finality seemed to cut Julia, although she covered it up well. She didn't say anything back, but instead hovered waveringly around the doorway, looking like she wanted to tell him something.

Sark couldn't help but stare at her as her brow furrowed in thought, debating something in her mind.

_She's beautiful._

She seemed to finally come to a resolution. She walked up and planted herself next to him on the bed, looking at him with those inquisitive eyes that seemed to see right through him.

What was she doing?

"I believe there are some people outside waiting for you," Sark reminded her, wary of her closeness. The last time they were on a bed together, they were –

"They can wait a bit longer," Julia replied shortly, thankfully stopping his imagination from running wild.

"Can I ask what this is about?" Sark asked slowly.

"It's about you."

"Oh?"

"Don't act all innocent with me," Julia snapped, glaring at him. "You've been avoiding me all day –"

"I've been busy with work," he explained simply.

"Don't interrupt," she ordered. "It's not that, I know it's not that. You're _different. _You don't talk to me like you used to. You don't joke around and stuff - you just look as if you want me to go away."

Sark smirked. "I wasn't aware that you enjoyed my company so much, Julia."

She looked slightly embarrassed. Ah, he'd gotten her there.

"So what if I do?" Julia said defiantly. "Anyway, I just wanted to know why you're acting so weird. And I'm going to get it out of you, even if it means I have to torture you myself."

Sark raised his eyebrows. "What are you going to do, talk me to death?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I have my ways." Then she started interrogating him. "So what is it? Did I do something wrong? Did you break something of mine? Was I so bad in bed that you can't bear to look at me anymore?"

Her? Bad in bed? Was she insane?

"Will you stop it?" Sark exclaimed, shaking his head. "You're completely mad, you know that?"

"Tell me!"

Her determination was somehow maddening and endearing at the same time.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with me, and I wasn't acting strangely. It really must have been a figment of your imagination," Sark told her, in the hope of evading her.

He knew that she would start asking questions. But he had hoped, by some stroke of luck, that she'd be out of his life by then.

"Denial," was all Julia had to say to him.

Sark sighed. "Alright. Perhaps I was in a bad mood." He offered her a half-truth in order to satisfy her.

"I don't think you're telling me the truth, Mr. Sark," Julia said accusingly.

She could read him better than he thought.

"Well that's all you're going to get, I'm afraid," Sark crossed his arms stubbornly, hinting that the conversation was going no further.

Julia either didn't get the hint or was simply ignoring it. "Oh, I beg to differ."

Sark had only just noticed the mischievous glint in her eye when Julia launched herself at him. He gasped when her fingers found their way to his ribs and she started tickling him. Squirming to get out of her reach, Sark found that escape was futile. Julia had pinned him to the mattress with her legs straddling his body, and was quickly discovering all the most ticklish parts of his body.

She attacked him mercilessly for a good three minutes. When she finally decided to give Sark a break, they were both giddy with laughter, which was a rare thing for them.

"Is this what you meant when you said that you'd torture me yourself?" Sark asked, his chest heaving as the last remnants of laughter escaped him.

"Yeah. It's a totally legit way to interrogate someone, I swear!" Julia grinned, a little breathless.

Her breath tickled his face. That's when Sark realised the position they were in. Julia's body was spread on top of his, her hands still on his chest. Somehow his arms wrapped themselves around her.

It took all of his willpower not to flip her over and tear her clothes off.

"Am I squashing you?" Julia whispered, her lips hovering dangerously close to his.

Unable to tear his gaze away from her mouth, he murmured, "Not really. You're quite light actually."

Suddenly she rolled away from him to the other side of the bed, as if to get as far away from him as possible. Sark sat up, unhappy that the warmth of her body had left him. He had felt rather relaxed just lying there on the bed.

Then Sark surprised himself by saying, "Do you want to tell me what this is really about?" Somehow, he instinctively knew there was more to this little interrogation than Julia had let on.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Julia stated calmly, climbing off the bed.

"Come on, Julia. You don't expect me to believe that you came in here asking all those questions and going to all that trouble just for the sake of it," Sark said to her as he stood up and began smoothing his clothes. "The answer to why I've supposedly been acting strangely is hardly that important, or interesting. So what is this all about, really?"

Julia avoided his gaze and started busying herself by tying up her dark hair. "I was just worried about you, that's all," she said softly, a pink tinge appearing in her cheeks. "Something seemed to be bothering you. You know, you could have talked to me about it, if you wanted to. I wouldn't have minded."

Sark stared at her. She had been worried about him? That wasn't exactly the answer he had been expecting.

"So, are you going to tell me why you've been acting weird?" Julia piped up hopefully, abruptly changing the subject.

"Uh........no," was all he could manage to get out.

Julia growled, exasperated. "You're so impossible!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in defeat. With a resigned sigh, she said, "I have to go now."

Sark kept his gaze on her as she walked towards him, and before he realised what was happening, Julia Thorne was kissing him. The kiss was soft and teasing, rather different from the rough, heated kisses she'd given him when they'd slept together.

Different, but nice. Very nice.

Julia pulled away all too soon. The taste of her lingered on Sark's mouth.

She didn't allow him to ask why she'd just kissed him. Smiling sweetly, she said, "Bye, Sark," and left him standing dumbfounded in that same spot for a good few minutes.

When he finally managed to shove the memory of her mouth against his to the back of his head, he suddenly realised why she did it – to torture him. To make him want her, and make sure that he couldn't have her – because now she was on a plane to America and he wouldn't ever see her again.

It was Sark's punishment for being a complete ass to Julia in the past twenty four hours.

* * *

**A/N: **A very long chapter to make up for the very short chapter before. Hope you like it! Please review! : )


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

"Hey, have you seen Sydney?" Weiss asked Vaughn as they got up to leave the debriefing room. The meeting had ended a few minutes ago and the room was almost deserted. "She didn't show up for the meeting."

"Didn't you hear? She's still interrogating Max," Vaughn informed him, gathering up some folders.

Weiss threw up his hands in the air in frustration. "What? Why don't I know this? No one tells me anything around here!" he cried.

"I just told you something," Vaughn pointed out.

His friend let out a resigned sigh and promptly got over his small outburst. "Whatever. Anyway, do you think she's onto something?"

"Most likely. I mean, she skipped the meeting to stay back with Max, didn't she?" Vaughn contemplated slowly. "Maybe she managed to make Max talk."

Weiss nodded in agreement, and then put his hand up to stop Vaughn from walking out of the debriefing room. "Hey, wait a sec."

Vaughn frowned, pausing at the doorway. "What?"

"Have you got anything on Syd's evil twin?" Weiss asked in a hushed whisper, taking Sydney's absence as an opportunity to talk about her mysterious look-alike. It had been a little over a week since Dixon had ordered them to keep what Vaughn had seen at Manticore from Sydney and Jack. Since then, Vaughn had been authorized to search for any information on the "evil twin's" identity, leaving the others to wait impatiently as their curiosity grew.

Vaughn shut the door and motioned for Weiss to sit back down at the tables again. As they took their places opposite each other, he leaned forward slightly, prompting Weiss to do so as well.

"Well?" Weiss demanded eagerly.

Vaughn paused, and finally admitted, "I have nothing."

"Nothing? Damn," Weiss cursed after gaping at him for a few seconds. He slumped back into his chair, deflated. "It's been killing me, lying to Syd. I hate it. The sooner we find out who this woman is, the better."

"I know how you feel. It's hard for everyone," Vaughn sympathized. "I'm trying my best," he added truthfully.

Weiss looked back at him. "I know," he replied apologetically. "I wasn't implying that you don't think this is important or that you're not doing a good job. I know you care about Sydney. I'm just -"

"Worried," Vaughn put in knowingly. "Yeah. I get it."

"Exactly. I mean, seriously, who is this chick who looks exactly like Sydney? Is she a threat to her? Is she dangerous?" Weiss pondered aloud, his concern for one of his closest friends evident.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. But so far, I've had no luck. I mean, even Lauren came up with nothing," Vaughn told him.

"Lauren?" Weiss echoed. "Lauren was allowed to help you and I wasn't?"

"Hey, she offered, alright?" Vaughn said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender before Weiss fired up again. "I thought two heads would be better than one, so -"

"OK, fine, whatever," Weiss interrupted. "So......nothing?"

"You could say that. There's no information about this woman anywhere. I used Sydney's photo to do a search on her – because they look the same, obviously – but all I got was some stuff on Sydney." Vaughn paused. "Now, I know what you're thinking – how am I supposed to know which woman is Sydney and which woman is the "evil twin", right?" He looked at Weiss expectantly.

Weiss rolled his eyes and drawled in a monotone, "You read my mind, Mike."

"Yes, I know," Vaughn stated proudly, satisfied with Weiss' answer. "I got a list of all the aliases that Sydney has used, including the ones she used at SD-6, and they all matched up with the results I got."

"Well, that's just great," Weiss muttered. "There has to be something, man, _anything_. I mean, maybe she's an agent in another intelligence agency, or an assassin, or something -" He stopped in mid-sentence as he heard the sound of the door opening. The pair quickly ended their conversation and turned around as Sydney entered the room.

"Hey," she said softly. "Have you guys seen my dad?"

They both shook their heads. "The last time we saw him was at the meeting," Vaughn told her. He exchanged a nervous glance with Weiss, both of them hoping that she hadn't heard what they had been talking about.

"Oh," Sydney said, casting her eyes downwards in disappointment. There seemed to be something on her mind, something that she desperately wanted to talk about. Suddenly, on impulse, she came and sat down at the tables with them. "I got some information from Max," she blurted out.

Weiss straightened, stunned. "_No. Way_." he exclaimed, sounding like a teenage girl in the middle of a juicy gossip session.

"It's not what you think," Sydney informed them hastily. "I'm not sure if it even has anything to do with the Covenant. It might not be relevant to what we're doing." She paused, as if she was still coming to terms with what she had discovered.

Confusion began to mingle with their curiosity. "What is it, Syd?" Vaughn prompted her, frowning.

As Sydney recapped her conversation with Max, the two of them visibly paled as they realised that Sydney had stumbled upon their secret – without even knowing that she had – and, in a period of an hour or so, she had discovered more about her "evil twin" than Vaughn and Lauren had after a week of fruitless searching. But now the mysterious woman from Manticore had an identity – Julia. Which made the whole situation all the more eerie.

"It's sounds crazy, I know," Sydney finished, unsure of what to make of their shocked silence. "I'm not even sure if this is a real lead, or whether it's worth telling Dixon." She shook her head. "And I guess I can't exactly be sure that she looks like me at all, considering Max hasn't seen her for the last fifteen years but........."

Again, Vaughn and Weiss looked to each other, hoping to find the answer to a difficult question – should they tell Sydney the truth, or lie to her face? Neither option was particularly appealing – or safe, for that matter. If they told her that they had already known about Julia, then they would most certainly have their asses kicked by both Sydney and Dixon. If they lied to her.........well, then their guilty consciences would do the ass kicking.

They didn't get paid enough to do this job.

Vaughn took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge – he couldn't deceive Sydney any longer and he knew that Weiss couldn't either. She'd be furious but Vaughn took comfort in the fact that at least she'd have some reassurance.

"Syd," Vaughn began carefully. "This woman you're talking about – Julia – Max is right, she does look like you. Exactly like you."

Confusion crept into Sydney's eyes. "How do you know that?"

"Because I saw her at Manticore," Vaughn explained regretfully. "She walked past me, and I could've sworn she was you."

A moment passed as Sydney processed this information. Then her expression darkened as she repeated fiercely, "You _saw _her?"

"Yes," Vaughn concurred quietly.

"And it never occurred to you that maybe you should tell me that there's a woman out there who looks exactly like me?" Sydney hissed.

"We were under orders not to tell you," Weiss jumped in.

"Under orders? So Dixon knew about this too?" Sydney said angrily. "I suppose I was the only person who didn't know."

"Actually.......you're father didn't know either," Vaughn told her, and he couldn't help but notice the relief that washed over Sydney's face. _At least my father has been honest with me, _her expression seemed to say.

"Is this why you guys have been acting so weird lately?" Sydney sighed tiredly. The tone of her voice was now more frustrated that angry.

Weiss looked dumbfounded - he obviously thought that she hadn't suspected a thing. Sydney's acting ability was clearly more accomplished than theirs. "We were trying to protect you, Syd," Weiss stated lamely.

"Protect me? From _what_?" Sydney said incredulously. "I don't need your protection, _anyone's _protection. You know very well that I can handle far worse than this. I should have been the first person you told." She stood up abruptly. "Here's a tip, guys – when you discover something that affects me, don't leave me in the dark, alright?"

She turned and left them, closing the door softly behind her.

"Wow," Vaughn murmured, feeling slightly numb. He wasn't sure what to make of Sydney's reaction. He had expected to be yelled at, or have his life threatened, at the very least. But disappointment?

That was more than he could take.

* * *

OK, so maybe she had acted like a complete cow, but Vaughn and Weiss had asked for it.

Why they would keep something so trivial from her was beyond Sydney. Well, the issue wasn't exactly trivial. It was rather important, actually. For all Sydney knew, Julia could possibly have information the CIA could use to take down the Covenant or even be the key to her missing two years. And there was still the issue of why they were completely identical. Now that was something Sydney had to know.

So why did Dixon order them to refrain from telling her about Julia? For crying out loud, she could have saved a lot of trouble by helping them find information about her – which she had done already without even realising it.

She walked into her kitchen and opened the cupboard, searching for some alcohol – preferably tequila – to rid her of the exasperation she was feeling towards her colleagues. After a few minutes of rummaging around she triumphantly produced a bottle of tequila and headed to the living room, deciding to spend a quiet night in her pyjamas watching FRIENDS reruns. Which was something she usually did with Weiss, but tonight she felt like giving him a small punishment by leaving him out.

Not very mature, admittedly, but Sydney didn't care.

She had expected more from him, actually. Weiss was one of the few friends she had left and she trusted him to tell her about the things she needed to know about, orders or no orders. And Julia certainly fell under the category of things she needed to know about.

It really irked her, the way they treated her like she was emotionally delicate because she couldn't remember the last two years of her life.

But after all the pain she'd experienced not only as an agent but as a child, anyone would've thought that Sydney would become a mentally stronger and tougher person because of it. Instead, they were tip-toeing around her as if she were a fragile piece of glass. She understood that they wanted to protect her, but this was bordering on ridiculous.

Sydney slumped back onto her couch and set a glass of tequila on the table. _Maybe I should forget about this whole Julia fiasco for tonight, _she thought to herself.

Although there was one thing she couldn't get off her mind – something her father had said to her when she'd finally gotten the chance to tell him about Julia. She had hoped that maybe he'd have some answers, that maybe he'd kept Julia a secret from her just like he had with Project Christmas – but no. It was news to her father as well, which, strangely enough, both comforted and disheartened her.

"_Sydney. This woman – Max told you her name was Julia, is that correct?" Jack asked her. _

"_Yes," Sydney replied, watching her father frown as he recalled something. "What is it?"_

_Jack's expression was stoic, as it always was when he spoke of his ex-wife, Irina. "This may be irrelevant, but I can't help but remember........when your mother and I discovered that she was pregnant with you, she was having trouble picking out a name. There were two names that she had fallen in love with, you see, and she found it hard to pick between the two. The first name was Sydney." _

"_What was the second name?" Sydney whispered._

"_Julia."_

With this new information, Sydney couldn't help but wonder if Julia was an identical twin sister she and her father didn't know about. Yes, it was ridiculous - not to mention impossible - but she couldn't bring herself to rule out that possibility.

Anyway, coincidence or not, it was still weird.

_So much for forgetting about Julia, _Sydney said to herself.

She finally switched on the TV, fully intent on carrying out what she had planned to do tonight – be lazy. At least she would have, if it weren't for the strange feeling in her stomach that told her there was someone else in her house. Someone that wasn't supposed to be there.

Reaching for her gun, which was resting on the table next to her forgotten glass of tequila, Sydney stood slowly and began to search the house for the intruder. Thankfully, the TV drowned out the sound of her footsteps, but it also meant that she couldn't hear theirs either.

Sydney crept through the house, checking every room and finding no one.

_So I'm losing it now, _she thought as she let her hand with the gun fall to her side. _Great. _

Suddenly, there was a firm tap on her shoulder. Startled, Sydney whirled around, and came face to face with –

Herself.

Sydney's eyes widened as she stood frozen to the spot. Unless she was mistaken, Julia was standing right in front of her. And she didn't look at all surprised that they looked exactly the same. It was like looking into a mirror, and yes, it was completely bizarre.

"Hi," Julia said brightly, with Sydney's voice and with Sydney's smile.

Unable to speak, Sydney didn't reply. Nor did she spring into action as she usually would. There were so many questions running through her mind – why was Julia here, and why did she seem to already know Sydney?

She didn't have the chance to even contemplate the answers to those questions as Julia whipped out a tranquilizer gun and shot her, causing her to slip out of consciousness.

* * *

Julia knelt in front of the unconscious Sydney Bristow, amused. She had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the shocked look on her face. What had worried her though, was the recognition she saw in her eyes. It wasn't just that Sydney had realised how much she looked like her – Julia was certain that Sydney had known exactly who she was. Did that mean the other CIA agents knew who she was too?

She straightened up abruptly as three or so Covenant agents filed into the room, ready to take Sydney into their custody.

"Very good, Julia," one of them said to her. "You'll now assume your identity as Sydney Bristow."

Julia nodded. "One question. I need to know if the CIA agents are aware of my existence. Because if they do, this mission could be in jeopardy."

"Lauren Reed will be briefing you on all you need to know regarding the CIA's investigation of the Covenant and Manticore, including the information they have on you and the other X5s – if they have any at all."

"Alright then," she replied, satisfied. She watched quietly as the Covenant agents cleared out of the house with Sydney, leaving no evidence to suggest that they had been there in the first place.

And so her mission began.

Julia felt slightly uncomfortable living in someone else's home, touching someone else's things and wearing someone else's clothes. But she had to convince herself that now this was _her _home, _her_ things, and _her_ clothes.

She was Sydney Bristow.

So she quickly got changed out of her black outfit and decided to acquaint herself with the house that was supposedly hers. If one of Sydney's friends suddenly decided to come over, it would be more than suspicious if she had no idea where everything was.

And then, as if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

_Already?_ Julia thought furiously._ Isn't there some rule that says I get some time to settle in first?_

Then she drew in a deep breath, ordering herself to be calm. She had always been able to adjust to unpredictable situations, and that was exactly what she was going to do now.

Expertly slipping into her role as Sydney, she walked towards the front door, ready to greet whoever was there.

From what Julia knew about Sydney's life, it was most likely that it would be Eric Weiss or Jack Bristow that had come to visit. And that was who she had expected to see when she opened the front door.

But the penetrating blue eyes that looked back at Julia were certainly not Weiss' or Jack Bristow's.

"Sark?" she gasped.

* * *

Hope you liked it.....don't forget to review! : )


	12. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: **I'm so sorry about the extremely long delay. School hasn't been treating me too kindly, I'm afraid, and I had a bit of writers block for a while. I did this chapter over a few times, because I couldn't seem to get it right. Anyway, sorry again, and I hope you like it.

**Chapter Twelve**

"Sark?" she gasped.

There was no reply. Instead, Sark slowly ran his eyes over her body, quite obviously checking her out.

Julia, stunned and confused at this sudden turn of events, could not bring herself to form a coherent sentence. So rather than verbally attacking him for staring at her so blatantly, she settled for next best thing – she stared right back.

Unfortunately, this allowed her to notice how good Sark looked. Needless to say, he always looked good, but tonight, standing there with his shirt open at the collar and his sleeves casually rolled up, he looked particularly hot.

Their eyes met.

Sark's gaze was so intense that it was almost unnerving; yet she couldn't look away – she was transfixed. Then she frowned slightly, noticing, but unable to read, the curious expression on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Julia finally managed, voicing the question that had been lingering in her mind for the past few minutes. "Aren't you supposed to be -" She was cut off as Sark abruptly closed the gap between them and covered her mouth with his.

Julia stiffened slightly as Sark's arms slipped around her, every instinct telling her to resist him.

She didn't listen, of course.

Desire coursed through her body as his tongue teased her, urging her lips open to allow him full access to her mouth. She complied, kissing him back so hard that there was most certainly going to be a bruise there the following morning. She allowed him to push her back into the house, vaguely registering the sound of the door slamming shut as his lean body pressed her up against the nearest wall.

Sark's hands were all over her - stroking her hips, lacing through her hair, tugging at her clothes – like he couldn't get enough of her. The passion behind his kisses did not go unnoticed by Julia either. In fact, it blew her away, leaving her feeling completely submissive and, believe it or not, rather........weak.

No more than five minutes ago, Julia would have thought that the rather clichéd idea of a man making her weak at the knees was completely ludicrous, but Sark had indeed proved her wrong.

Bloody Sark.

She had an extreme disliking for the times when Sark got the better of her. But it was impossible to hate him, or to even find him remotely annoying, when he was kissing her so fervently.

"Hi," Sark suddenly murmured against her mouth, speaking for the first time since his arrival.

"Hey," she whispered back, drawing him in for another kiss. Then, "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course," he replied breathlessly, his lips a fraction away from hers. "What is it?"

Julia bit her lip, barely able to contain a smile. "Bedroom," she said softly, inclining her head to the aforementioned place.

As simple as the statement was, there was no need for elaboration. It seemed as though Sark didn't need to be told twice.

"Right," he said slowly, his eyes clouding over with desire. "Right. Well, let's go then."

* * *

Julia stirred in her sleep.

She was in bed - she knew that much. But with her mind foggy with sleep, there wasn't much more she couldn't figure out after that. Except that she felt warm. And safe.

It was an unfamiliar experience for Julia, but she chose to ignore this fact and decided not to question it as she snuggled deeper into the source of the warmth before she woke up completely.

A strong arm slipped around her shoulders. "Good morning," a familiar male voice mumbled above her head.

Sark?

Julia's eyes blinked open as she peered up at the person who spoke. She was greeted by a lovely pair of blue eyes and a sleepy smile. Her heart panged with an emotion she didn't quite recognise, and she couldn't control the smile that lit up her own face. "Morning," she murmured back.

Sark trailed his fingers gently through her hair, sending warm tingles down her spine. "Did you sleep well?"

Julia only managed a drowsy "Mmmhmmm........" before resting her head back on his chest again.

Wait a second –

_Sark!_

Julia shot up into a sitting position, frantically grabbing at the sheets to cover up her currently clothes-less state. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, extracting herself from Sark in order to shoot him her deadliest glare.

Sark yawned, still half asleep. "Pardon?"

_That is so adorable, _Julia thought to herself, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. _Wait – what am I saying? I'm supposed to be asking him why the hell he's in Sydney's house, not thinking about how cute he is!_

"You heard me – what are you doing here?!" Julia repeated harshly, prodding him in the stomach.

"Ow!" Sark exclaimed, hastily moving out of her reach. "You know, we were having a rather nice moment, until you started yelling at me. Did you notice?" he accused, pulling the blankets up around him.

Actually, she had noticed. It had occurred to her that instead of the usual wave of repulsion and the compelling need to run away that usually accompanied waking up next to a man she'd just slept with, there was an irresistible urge to let her guard down, curl up against Sark, and fall asleep again. That moment had been fleeting, yes, but she distinctly remembered feeling more relaxed and secure than she had ever been in her entire life.

In fact, waking up next to Sark, she realised, wasn't so bad. Well, at least until a few minutes ago it wasn't.

"I didn't...........yell," Julia corrected him slowly. Then she added, more forcefully, "Now explain yourself!"

Sark folded his arms grumpily in response.

Julia glared at him for a few moments before sighing heavily. She decided to abandon her original plan of which involved firing various insults and threats at Sark until he told her exactly what was going on. Clearly that wasn't going to work so well if he insisted on acting like a child.

So instead she climbed out of bed, bringing the sheets with her. "Why do we always end up screwing each other?" Julia muttered to herself, frustrated.

"I'm sure there are people in far worse situations than we are, Julia," Sark retorted from behind her. "Besides, I thought you enjoyed our little trysts."

"Who gave you _that_ idea?" Julia replied viciously as she pulled on her clothes.

Sark smirked. Oh, that wasn't a very good sign. "No one. The fact that you practically melted when I kissed you is evidence enough."

"Well, I wasn't the one who flew half way across the world for a fuck!" Julia countered maliciously, hoping that Sark hadn't noticed the flush that had crept into her cheeks. Ok, so Sark was a good kisser. Alright, _fine – _an incredible kisser. Who just happened to have the ability to render her completely helpless every time he touched her. Did he really need to rub it in?

Oh, right - of course he did.

Sark's composure faltered for a split second. "I did not come here just to sleep with you," he objected crossly, getting up.

She stared at him incredulously. "Ok, so let me get this straight - you just _happened_ to get on a plane, wander over to Sydney's house, and start groping me the second I opened the door. Yeah. The whole point of your trip wasn't to just to get me into bed. I totally believe you," Julia snapped sarcastically.

"Believe it or not, I have some business to take care of over here," Sark informed her smoothly as he slipped on his shirt.

"Did any of that business involve screwing me, by any chance?" she put in.

There was that infuriating smirk again. "Perhaps."

_I'm gonna kill that little son of a bitch -_

"Bored of Lauren already, huh?" Julia offered sweetly, biting back the sharp remark on the tip of her tongue.

He inched towards her. "Something like that."

Julia watched him closely, mindful of how he was moving closer by the second. The sensible thing to do would have been to back away from him; to maximize the space between them – but Julia, being as stubborn as she was, stood her ground and refused to move. "I don't suppose you would care to elaborate," she said, pretending to be unperturbed by his closeness.

"No, I don't really feel like it." Sark moved even nearer, keeping his eyes on her the whole time, as if to memorise her face.

"Then what _do_ you feel like?" she shot back, agitated.

Sark shook his head, amused by her annoyance. "You have so many questions, Julia."

The space between them was now almost non-existent. This time, the warmth of his body and the alluring scent of his aftershave made her take a step backward. Such a tempting combination was clouding her judgment, and that was something she really could not afford right now.

It seemed that Sark was affecting her much more than she'd like to admit.

Julia swallowed visibly, and finally managed to muster up the sense to reply: "That's only because you won't give me any answers -"

Sark suddenly kissed her, not allowing her to say anymore. No matter – Julia had already forgotten what she was going to say anyway. All that mattered was the feel of Sark's soft lips against hers and the lovely warm feeling that was spreading through her body........

_I think you should stop now......._

_No, I don't want to......_

_This is wrong......_

_But it feels right......._

The voice of reason finally won in the end, and Julia reluctantly broke off the kiss.

"You shouldn't be here," Julia said quietly, turning her head away from him so that he couldn't kiss her again – and vice versa. She didn't need the temptation.

"Don't you think I know that?" His voice sounded strained, almost desperate, like he was trying so hard to hold back.

"Then what are you doing here?" she whispered back, meeting his eyes again. "You know, the Covenant will seriously kick our asses if they find out that you're here -"

"Julia -" Sark started.

"No, listen to me!" she interrupted sternly. "You can't just turn up unannounced like this, Sark. Weiss lives down the street - he could've seen you! I can't risk the CIA getting suspicious and finding out that I'm not Sydney."

"You won't need to worry about Weiss," Sark informed her solemnly. "If he did happen to see me, simply tell him that Ms Bristow and I are having a passionate affair and that we can't keep our hands off one another." He barely managed to keep a straight face before breaking out into a grin. "I certainly wouldn't object to that story."

Julia stared at him, appalled. How could he _possibly _be cracking jokes about this?

Sark's grin faded into a crestfallen expression. "Sorry. That was a rather lame joke, wasn't it?"

Julia smiled unconsciously, unable to stay mad at him when he was looking so dejected. "Only a little bit," she said consolingly, as if speaking to a small child. Then she added, "This is serious, Sark."

He nodded. "I know."

Julia sat down on the bed. "Come here," she instructed gently, patting the space next to her. As Sark sat down with her, she couldn't figure out why she suddenly felt the need to take care of him. It was quite clear that Sark didn't need to be taken care of.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Sark spoke.

"I suppose you want me to tell you why I'm here," Sark stated.

"That........that would be nice, yes," Julia answered slowly.

Sark frowned, thinking. "Well, you see, the problem is that I don't know why I came here." He paused, and then corrected himself. "I mean, I do know why I came here, but I don't know why I came _here. _Do you know what I mean?"

Julia bit her lip, trying desperately to hold back a giggle. The usually calm, collected and stoic Sark was rambling – a sight that she hadn't yet had the pleasure of seeing.

Until now.

"I'm sorry. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she grinned, thoroughly enjoying herself at Sark's expense. She momentarily forgot that they were supposed to be having a 'serious' talk.

"Right. Of course you don't," Sark agreed, and relapsed into silence again.

Julia looked at him expectantly.

Sighing, Sark explained, "I was telling the truth before - I did have some business to take care of here in LA. And I suppose if I had been smart I would have done what I was supposed to do and leave. But I didn't. I came here."

"Why?"

He shrugged, almost shyly. "I don't know. I guess.........I guess I really wanted to see you again. I couldn't get you out of my head. So I thought I'd go and see you again just one last time. I was only going to say hello – which was a rather stupid thing to do, considering the circumstances, but I never intended to put you or the mission in danger..........or sleep with you, for that matter." Then he murmured under his breath, "Perhaps I should learn to control myself a bit better."

Julia gaped at him. She had been expecting a whole range of excuses with varying degrees of pathetic-ness, but she hadn't been expecting........honesty. That, coupled with the fact that he had supposedly missed her, was what really astounded her.

"Well," Sark said as he stood up. "I guess I should go."

"Yeah, you should," she replied shortly, purposely being callous.

Sark's expression was wiped blank as he nodded. "Right."

"Hey," Julia called to his retreating back.

He turned around almost immediately, and her eyes softened. "Will I be getting another late-night visit again tonight?" Julia asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Sark seemed slightly taken aback, but he grinned in spite of it. "It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not you want another late-night visit."

Julia giggled. "If it's anywhere near as eventful as last night's visit, then I'd love another late night visit."

Sark's grin widened. "Well I guess it's settled, then."

Julia simply could not wipe the smile off her face as Sark left. What they were doing was risky – not to mention stupid – but Julia realised that she didn't give a shit. She liked having Sark around – so what? She was allowed to have a little fun, wasn't she?

Maybe it was time for her to stop following the rules.

* * *

**A/N: **It's finally done! I wanted to thank you for all the reviews – I saw that there were a few new readers there too. Thanks for reading guys! 


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